Moonwalker
by WhenPugsAttack
Summary: Lucille Wendell was a girl with her head lost far beyond the clouds. With her 9th birthday falling the day the moon landing happened, she decided she'd become the first ever witch on the Moon! But after meeting a sandy-haired boy on the Hogwarts Express, Lucy can't quite understand why Remus Lupin flinches at the mere mention of her plan to go to the Moon.
1. chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated, except the OC's._

* * *

 _ **01\. Physics and Magic**_

 **JULY 20, 1969**

* * *

The Pine Island Estates were only a few miles from the Kennedy Space Center. Everyone knew being alive in this time was pure dumb luck—after all, how many times did one see a man go to the moon for the first time? And for lucky, lucky nine-year-old Lucy Wendell, it was perhaps, the greatest birthday of her life. Not that there were that many, but still! Her awe had resonated with the _nation_ , for crying out loud!

Seeing the glittering rocket shine after its blasting roar into the atmosphere in person, then watch it blink out of sight like a reverse meteorite was simply put, astonishing—amazing yet frightening all at once! —Dad would certainly agree with her, she knew. Mom had tried to join in on their enthusiasm, but she just couldn't compete with Dad. The time he'd taken Lucy to work with him at the Center was the second-best day of her life, only after the launch of the Apollo 11.

Much later that evening, it was with bated breath that they both huddled around the massive television screen, the infinite seconds of Buzz Aldrin's and Neil Armstrong's perilous journey come to the tantamount climax—setting foot on the moon. The sizzling of Mom cooking dinner on the pan fizzled into nothing, and it was just her, Dad, and the words of Neil Armstrong echoing into the very recesses of her mind.

"That's one small step for man," Lucy held her breath, straining to hear the very words that would set forth a dream like no other. "and one giant step for mankind."

Their endeavor set loose another giant step for Lucy, in her budding obsession of going to the Moon.

* * *

Charles Wendell was a lucky man. Not because he had the best daughter a man could ask for, not because he worked his dream job as a physicist for NASA at Florida's Kennedy Space Center, not because of his dashing good looks (according to his mother) no, but because he had the best wife he could ask for.

Meeting the woman of his dreams had been like hitting a bullet in mid-air with a smaller bullet—while riding an angry bull.

Gwendolyn Ollivander, the lady in question who just so happened to spill blazing hot tea on Charles during his visit to England's tiny space program. No one wanted the Russians to beat the Western forces to the moon—John F. Kennedy's emblazoned determination flamed within every American at the time—they would have the first man on the moon within the end of the 1960's.

The tea wasn't what attracted him, however—it was the wide, peculiar eyes. They glittered the pale silvery shine of the moon, their beauty almost dumbfounding him in his place despite the scalding fluid flowing all over his immaculate suit. Gwen must've found him even better, and he couldn't quite remember much after that. But it was better that way.

Because almost ten years later, the very same shine glittered at him in their home on Merritt Island, Florida. He'd somehow managed to tuck in their exhilarated child even after the monumental landing, shocking since even Charles couldn't process that they'd managed the feat of the century.

"Something wrong, Gwen?" he asked, his voice low and serious. Gwen stayed silent, her brilliant eyes hiding the anguish within.

"Dad's gone."

Her English accent broke on the final word, her shuddering breath paving way for the gasps of tears to come. Charles knew how much her dad meant to her— Gervaise had been the one to walk her down the aisle, to raise the amazing woman before him. How could she have kept it quiet for so long?

"Gwendolyn…" What could he say? It seemed all the excitement from the day had seeped out of his very being. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How could I?" she asked, her eyes alight with unshed tears and unrestrained adoration. "It's Lucy's day, your day, the day you've worked for since the day we met! I couldn't ruin it for you both, not with this terrible news!"

Tears dripping uncontrollably down her porcelain face, she curled into his chest with rapid bursts of agony. Heart breaking for his wife, Charles took her in his arms as they lay under the sheets. He didn't know how they'd get past it, but they would. He would do anything for her, his Gwen. Anything. Especially to stop her from crying. Gervaise Ollivander may have died, but his daughter had kept it to herself to make the perfect day for him and her baby girl. Their baby girl.

"How do you think Lucy will take it?" he pondered worriedly, the shaking woman in his arms stilling at the thought.

"S-she'll want to see him one last time, won't she?" Gwen sniffled. "Do you think we can go this week? To England?"

"Of course," Charles confirmed, a knot forming in his throat. Lucy was too young to understand why they'd never see Gervaise again.

All he could hope was that she not catch her mother in this state.

"You'll…" He paused, not finding the words to describe Gwendolyn's…peculiarity. "You'll get us there like you usually do, right?"

Gwen nodded under his chin, her honey-colored hair catching on the dark stubbly whiskers.

"Magic?" she uttered quietly, the escaped word finding its way back to him.

"Yes," Charles hummed, thinking of the paradox magic posed for him. Theoretically, physics had to include the variable within it. Perhaps Muggles didn't consider it, but he wondered if wizards did use some form of the science within their own studies. It just came to show how they didn't really need magic if mere Muggles had performed the previously impossible without wizards.

Thankfully, Lucy had taken after his natural inquisition, her mathematical diagrams proudly showcased in his office back at the Space Center. She knew the laws of physics like the back of her hand.

"The fireplaces, right?"

Gwen stayed quiet a while longer, her outbreak of tears restrained in favor of plotting for the future. Strong woman, she was.

"Yes, the Floo. We'll have to explain it to Lucy, you know. One of these days."

"Something tells me she already knows," Charles commented, his arms relaxing the tight hold they had over the petite figure of his wife. "Does she think all that weird stuff she does is normal for Muggles?"

"We didn't put her in public school for a reason…" Gwen trailed off, but Charles could hear the smile on her face. "It would be nice to show off before we go and…see Dad one last time."

Her steely resolve warmed his heart like nothing else. The same fire burned even now, ten years from their hasty marriage in London. Charles knew there was no other woman for him, no other he could call the love of his life. She'd given him the best child he could ask for—the least he could do was love her with all his heart.

With or without magic, Charles was certain Lucy would be an amazing woman. With her mother's eyes, his pitch-black hair, and a curiosity without bounds, his little scientist was well on her way to that goal, loved every step of the way.

This thought in mind, he thought little of else as Gwen too slackened, the tautness of her body melting into his own. A good night's sleep after a long day was just what the Wendell family needed before their long trip to England.

* * *

 **SEPTEMBER 1 1971**

* * *

It had been two years since Dad died. Two long years since the Death Eater's first infamous attack at Gervaise Ollivander's funeral, and two longer years of living without him. Lucy Wendell was certain, she'd go to the moon in honor of her slain father.

And then harness the power to destroy those who dared to destroy her perfect family.

Firstly, she'd need her wand, a Hornbeam and dragon heartstring beauty proposed to her ever since she'd met Uncle Garrick the first few days of their supposedly brief visit to England. Secondly, she'd go to Hogwarts and become the best witch the Wizarding World had ever seen.

Uncle Garrick's eccentricity was weird at first—she'd been too distracted prior to realize why he'd measured her left arm with the ever-present tape and find the obsession her father had imparted upon the world before his unfortunate demise. Lucy could still hear his shout, see his tall form as Dad dove for Mom, his final act illuminating her silver eyes with a green flash and an agony for the man she'd never see in her life again.

The overzealous bastards that did it took the brunt of the swirling storm within Mom's gaze. They'd gone out, the shine dulling into a hurricane within, unwilling to be contained, stopped, and all the ready to destroy anything in its path. Her hazel wand moved faster than lightning, blasting anyone and anything that came near her family.

Then the Aurors came, leaving us and the Ollivanders with yet another member to bury. Prison was too lenient for the fallen Death Eaters. No one could replace Dad, the Charles Wendell, one of the scientists who'd gotten to help mankind reach the moon! No one could.

The bitter thoughts rose a sensitive knot in her throat, and Lucy tried thinking of other things to occupy her mind. Like…like…the first day of school! As the resident mind reader, Mom yelled from the first floor.

"Lucille Wendell! Is your trunk packed?!"

Not wanting to make her angry, Lucy started shoving things haphazardly into her trunk.

"Yes, Mom!" The rate at which she threw things into the infinite abyss would've given Mom an aneurysm, she would be madder at the fact that she waited to the last second to do so. If it had the word 'Moon', it went in the trunk. If it had a picture of Charles Wendell, it went in the trunk. If it had anything that would further her research into astrology and astrophysics, it went in the trunk.

And Lucy was anything but picky in what she needed to conduct her experiments away from the unpredictable environment in Garrick's house, which also doubled as his research lab. An abnormally strong interest in science, both Muggle and Wizard, seemed to run in the family.

"Did you pack clothes?!" called Mom, knowing Lucy far too well. "I'll go check in a bit!"

It was those final words that had Lucy yelling back with equal fervor.

"Uh, duh Mom, I got clothes! All the robes we bought took hours to get…" The memory of Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions gave her an involuntary shudder. They'd spent way too long in there.

"Okay, honey, make sure you're down in five—you're going to miss the train!"

The train! Lucy grabbed the final thing she was certain she would need to conduct her trials. Her leather-bound star journal. It was the first introduction to science she'd ever gotten from Dad, the handwritten physics theories and diagrams memorized by heart. Mom charmed it after he died to never run out of pages, and damn if that didn't make it the best gift she'd ever gotten.

The trunk clunked down every single step on the way downstairs, where Garrick's nimble fingers worked meticulously on his newest wand. The highly unstable core, probably Dragon Heartstring, lay frozen in his Unbreakable jar, waiting to be combined with what looked like a beautiful Silver Lime wand wood. During the two years of living in England, Lucy was able to learn another mysterious side of magic—Wand lore.

Uncle Garrick dedicated his life to the profession, as it had been before him, and before Grandpa Gervaise, and before Grandpa Gervaise's Dad, and so on. Lucy could hardly fault him for being so dedicated—the eccentric nature of wand-making was, a paradox. It required a steady hand, an even steadier wand for the tricky ones, and the patience of a saint for the wand-maker himself.

"If you're done last-minute packing," Mom cast a glare from the fireplace. "We'll need to get going!"

"Aw, Mom, I wasn't last-minute packing!" Lucy fought a losing war. "I was finding all my books!"

"With those lies, you'll never be a Slytherin, thank God," she muttered loudly, grabbing a pinch of green dust from the hollowed-out groove in the bricks. "You first, say 'Platform 9 and 3/4'."

No stranger to Floo, Lucy grabbed a bit of the emerald powder and threw it into the flames.

"Platform 9 and 3/4!" And everything swirled in a film reel of colors. Shaking her head to get rid of the dizziness, Lucy stepped out onto the final image before her.

A scarlet train shone with golden rays of sunlight glinting off the metallic sides like the rocket she'd seen two years ago. Silvery smoke came out of the stack, with little puffs of colorful circles flying out every few seconds, in gaseous reds, blues, yellows, and greens. Many varieties of people strode along, their children pointing in awe and some hanging out of the train windows to say their final goodbyes. It was beautiful.

Momentarily stunned by the hustle and bustle of the Platform, Lucille failed to notice the incoming Floo passenger. He smacked right into her back, trunk and all, throwing her book skidding into the crowd. She didn't even get a chance to get a glimpse of the rude boy who'd done it, no, her Dad's gift was far too precious.

"Nice job, idiot!" she called back, not caring enough to turn around. And then she was lost in the crowd, book in hand, the many wizards and witches towering over her eleven-year-old form like giants. Until a slender arm picked her from within the masses.

"Lucille Wendell, you are such a rascal!" huffed Mom, lugging the trunk behind her. "If you were any worse, you'd lose your head too!"

"It wasn't my fault!" protested Lucy, pointing to the rows of fireplaces along the wall. "Some kid knocked Dad's journal into the crowd! I had to get it!"

"I'll stick it to your hand if you want, I don't care right now," Mom bit out, an odd sense of guilt welling within Lucy. "Get on the train before it starts moving!"

"Okay, Mom!" groaned Lucy, wanting to ogle more at the strangest crowd of people she'd ever seen accumulated in one place. Mom levitated the luggage onto one of the designated slots into an unmarked rail cart—which, by the way, defied all laws of gravity. Galileo had to release a Muggle version of the concept under the secrecy of the Italian Ministry—and came back to help her only daughter onto the train leaving in less than five minutes.

"Lucy, promise me you won't get in trouble—" Before Lucy could cut her off, she noticed the pleading glint in her mirrored silver eyes. An odd feeling washed over Lucy, making her nod solemnly at her crazed insistence. "You'll know what kind of trouble I mean soon, sweetheart. I didn't make us any friends when I got those Death Eaters arrested."

Mom fumed slightly as curious onlookers turned to glance at the blonde.

"I'll not say anymore—I love you baby, be safe."

"I love you too, Mom." With the final goodbye said and done, Lucy felt…strangely lonely. Mom was her everything, her consistent companion all eleven years of her life. To be split from her for the majority of the year felt…weird.

Lucy wandered through the corridor, glancing to see if any of the compartments had been filled yet. When it seemed like she'd walked the entire length of the train, she reached the final one. In it, from what she could peek through the window, was a single boy, his sandy blonde hair flaring into ashy brown in the bright sunlight.

He didn't look like trouble, not like that pair of boys who'd hardly made it onto the train before picking on some random students in their compartment. They'd stuck out to Lucy because of the girl's cherry-red hair. Wand in her hand in case things went bad, she poked her head into the compartment.

Startled, the boy drew back at the sight of Lucy, his eyes peering curiously at her tiny fingers wrapped around a charcoal wand.

"Um…hello." Lucy drew out, her voice catching at the scar lining the side of his face. "I'm Lucy. Would you mind if I sat here?"

' _Manners maketh a lady_ ' Mom's words voiced through her thoughts, so Lucy wouldn't be completely socially inept.

"I—Yeah, that's fine," the boy stammered, looking a bit alarmed at being talked to directly.

Raising a brow slightly, Lucy sat herself down on the opposite seat, the window separating the two children from each other.

"So, what's your name, I can't keep calling you boy in my head," she joked, giving the shy boy a small smile. "My whole name's Lucille Adaline Wendell—but don't tell anyone my middle name, okay?"

Thankfully, he seemed to pick it up and he smiled—albeit, briefly—at Lucy.

"Okay, I'm Remus John Lupin—but I don't mind if you tell people my middle name."

"Remus, like the brother of Romulus of Rome?" Lucy rushed out, her excitement getting the better of her.

"Er—yes." Oh no, she must've made him uncomfortable!

"I'm sorry, I really like to read—I've read all about ancient civilizations and history," she rambled, her defensive side riling up to protect her.

"That's okay, I like reading too!" Remus exclaimed, a true smile breaking on his face. "Do you know any Muggle literature?"

"Of course! I love Tolkien and Austen," gushed Lucy, her inner bookworm shining as another one sat across from her. "My favorite book might be 'Pride and Prejudice', but don't tell anyone, again!"

"You're such a girl!" he laughed, stopping as the train started to move. "It's okay, but I think I like Hemingway as an author better."

"He's good—but I prefer reading non-fiction anyways," Lucy excused her lack of fictional knowledge. Others could talk about their favorite writers, like Shakespeare, Austen, Lewis, Eliot, or Hemingway, but Lucy adored reading about physics and theory. Give her Einstein, Hawking, or any scientific article of the day!

"Oh, really?" asked Remus, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What kind of books do you read then?"

"I really enjoy reading about astrophysics," she started, watching his eyes widen with astonishment. "But my favorite subject is the moon."

Remus's face dropped like a brick from a second-story building. Lucy couldn't fathom why he looked so alarmed—there was nothing to fear from the moon! In fact, he seemed almost timid after, his next question posed delicately.

"Why the moon?"

Lucy digested his answer, knowing something was up between the sandy-haired boy and the moon. But what was it? She replied, as to not get caught staring inquisitively at Remus, who'd completely shut down after she'd chatted him up.

"Do you remember the Summer of 1969?" Seeing his face wince slightly, he nodded. "Well, in America, where I'm from, I lived a couple miles out from the John F. Kennedy Space Center. The Apollo 11 took off into space—on my birthday! —and man set foot on the moon for the first time in history! Dad and I waited all day to hear Neil Armstrong through the TV, and when he spoke, it was like time stood still…"

Lucy could still remember that infinitely dragged out minute. Dad was alive, his crystalline blue eyes lit with a fire to challenge his own daughter's passion for space, directly in front of the black and white screen like children eagerly waiting their Christmas gift. Absolutely amazing…

She hadn't noticed the last two words slip out, but Remus picked it up all too clearly.

"So, you want to be an astronaut? Don't you know space is extremely dangerous?!" he demanded, his forest green eyes swirling with fear and something Lucy couldn't place. "The moon isn't the safest place either, there's no oxygen there!"

"Duh, that's why Neil and Buzz had to wear their spacesuits!" laughed Lucy, unable to comprehend his irrational fear of not space, but the Moon itself! "And magic makes it easier to do! Imagine a charm to keep the spacesuit failsafe, the magical energy in tandem with the aerospace engineering to create the perfect spacecraft! All of mankind could go to the Moon with that technology!"

Her imagination running wild, she wrote the newest log in her journal, all too distracted to consider Remus's shell-shocked demeanor. Her newest plan? Figuring out how to use Wingardium Leviosa as a method of launching past the thermosphere. And maybe even a blasting spell would work—the inertia might just make jelly out of the poor astronaut in the rocket, but surely, a strong enough one could theoretically force the rocket into orbit!

Side-Note-to-Later-self, ask Remus about his fear of the moon.

* * *

Lucy Wendell was someone that Remus Lupin found himself quite certain, was a lunatic. Literally, 'to be obsessed with the moon'. And for someone with his condition, people like her were a dangerous force to be reckoned with. She was too inquisitive, too curious, and too outright in her exclamations.

What if one day, she up and told everyone about the creatures and plants affected by the moon? Everyone would figure it out, a _**werewolf**_ at Hogwarts?! He'd be strung up by an angry crowd in a matter of minutes! Lucy seemed to know every little thing there was to know about space, about physics, about the magical possibilities and imagination most wizards didn't care to bother themselves with.

But her, she had the capability of recognizing a potential for greater technology, to consider the melding of magic and Muggle engineering to make machines of the ages!

No, this Lucy Wendell was too dangerous to be around, lest she figure out his secret. With this thought in mind, he peered cautiously at the innocent looking figure, her silver eyes barely poking out from above her obviously well-loved journal. Her left hand scribbled with the ferocity of a mad genius, already on the second page of her wild thoughts barely contained into the notebook.

The train stopped suddenly, the gears screeching under their carriage like a pack of deranged geese.

"Damn you, Thermodynamics," he heard Lucy mutter, waving her wand lazily on the blot she must've made on the paper.

"You do know magic isn't allowed outside of school, right?" he asked, despite knowing that she was a dangerous individual for him. She might've been too curious for her own good, but Lucy was still the first person he'd ever talked to outside of his family about anything.

"And are we out of the school grounds?" she replied innocently, finally glancing out from her very complicated looking blueprint she'd been in the middle of before the stop.

Cheeks flaring, he nervously glanced outside the window to see the most brilliant sight he'd ever seen in his life.

"No…" he trailed off, letting the splendor of the castle fill his every pore. "Have you ever seen Hogwarts before?"

"No, it can't be that amazin—oh woah…" she stood next to him, both children staring in awe of the multifaceted turrets that heralded the castle, its towers and heights glittering with tiny windows that looked like stars from their distance. With his head looking so far up, the all-too-familiar glow of his worst enemy shone above the highest turret, the crescent taunting him of the agony awaiting him next month.

Remus wasn't too enamored after that. He also wasn't sure when he'd gotten so close to Lucy, and he made sure to move after the lapse in brain functioning passed.

"Are we supposed to leave our stuff on the train?" he asked, glancing at the well-informed girl beside him.

Her wavy black hair trailed below her shoulder blades, and Remus found himself examining the curious individual he'd shared his train ride with. She wasn't tall—he towered over her and most students in their First Year as well—she wasn't weird looking—if he was being honest, she was quite pretty—she wasn't insane—obsessed maybe, but not insane—there was nothing to hate about Lucy. His observation was cut short by her tiny voice.

"Yeah, Mom told me they take it to your dorm room, wherever you get sorted."

"Where do you think you'll go?" That bit at least, was extremely obvious to him. She'd surely be in Ravenclaw, where their passion was to learn as much as they could. Although, Remus wasn't sure if it meant only about one subject in particular. That would lead her closer to his secret, no, that wouldn't do! "I hope you're in Gryffindor!"

"Gryffindor?" Lucy asked, her head recoiling as if that thought had never occurred to her. "I'm not brave!"

Scrambling for reasons, Remus tried not sticking his foot in his mouth. He nodded furiously.

"Of course you are! Didn't you sit with a stranger at the beginning of the train? I saw you earlier, you ran right into the crowd regardless of who you pushed out of the way—so sorry about knocking you over, by the way," he rambled, desperately trying to persuade her.

Lyall Lupin never much told him about Hogwarts, as he wasn't certain he'd be allowed, but what he had told Remus before he left was that the Sorting Hat considered what the student wanted, and not just their qualities.

"You knocked me over?" she gasped, her voice getting higher in irritation. "You could've at least said sorry!"

"I just did!"

"Well," she paused to think of her rebuttal. "Not right after though! My mom got mad at me! And you let me be your friend before you said anything!"

"Good thing too, right?" he smiled, feeling a stab of hope poke through his heart. His first friend, just his luck it would the girl who could easily expose his secret to the world.

How terrible.

"I guess, you're pretty cool…" said Lucy, her voice tinged with fake disappointment. "And you really think Gryffindor is my house?"

"What self-preserving person would want to shoot themselves into the atmosphere?" he confirmed, smiling as Lucy laughed at his words.

"You're right!" she giggled before many of the students, young and old, began pouring out of the train. "I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts, Remus! I'll try to get in Gryffindor, don't worry!"

"Yeah…see you too." And he wasn't sure if it was the gutted feeling in his heart that made his face crumple as she left from the compartment.

* * *

Lucy never once thought she'd hate her last name. Wendell, the perfect pair to the perfect first name—Lucille Wendell went together like two peas in a pod, smoother than butter when she thought about it aloud.

Who'd have known the Hat went slower than the crowd outside of Kennedy Space Center? Really, for magical beings who possessed unlimited amounts of power, there had to be a better, faster way of getting Sorted into a house!

When 'Wallace, Kate' was called, she could hardly believe that there were still students behind her, but she found Remus's green-eyed, perturbed gaze staring at her from where he'd sat. A couple of boys sat around him, but he had all eyes for her, a slight blush rising in her cheeks at his intensity. No _boy_ ever looked at her for so long-they'd all thought she was crazily obsessed with a dream that they thought would never come true!

But she'd show all of them!

"WENDELL, LUCILLE!" boomed the Hat, and Lucy practically skipped to the seat in pure anticipation. She was far too happy, far too curious to care about the peculiar stares from the Slytherin table. And from one Mr. Sirius Black, who thought Miss Wendell looked a little too much like his family members.

"Well, Well, Miss Wendell, what do we have here?" the Hat _harrumphed_ , if she could believe it. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, but there's such a thirst for knowledge, to know, to build the rocket of Wizardkind! You might just be the most obsessed child I've Sorted since Garrick Ollivander…oh, I see. Your uncle. And your mother! She was a Stall too, couldn't decide between her brain or her heart. But there's quite a bit of thirst for revenge there too, Lucille, that's where you differ—or would you prefer Lucy?"

"I—Lucy, please."

"I'm sorry what happened to your father, tragic loss…but you fail to see the most important characteristic he imparted to you, even before his death. —" Lucy couldn't believe her ears, just what did he mean by that?! "—although, your friend Mr. Lupin had quite the reason for you in Gryffindor as well…even if he doesn't know it either. Yes, I think the boy should have a chance for happiness, even after both of you have suffered so long. Better be _**GRYFFINDOR**_!"

Remus stood from his seat, clapping after the extremely long Sorting. But everyone she glanced around at seemed to be looking at her in awe. Why were they so surprised? They clearly didn't hear the Hat from where they sat.

"Remus!" she called, a brilliant smile illuminating her face. "I did it, I got Gryffindor, just like you said!"

She sat in the empty space next to him, giving him a brief hug while casting her silvery eyes at his friends as well.

"Well, well, Remus, you move quick!" exclaimed one of the boys, his mischievous hazel eyes glinting behind his circular wired glasses.

"Quick?" asked Remus, both he and Lucy sharing their confusion.

"Why, you've got a girlfriend, doesn't he James?!" exclaimed the boy next to James. He could've been Lucy's brother, with similar wavy black hair and gray eyes. But she knew the difference—hers were far brighter than the storms beneath Sirius Black's.

Huffing indignantly, Lucy spoke before Remus got a word in on his supposedly new friends.

"I'm not his girlfriend, idiots, Remus is my friend! Besides, you're just jealous he has a female friend!" taunted Lucy, not seeing the increasing blush rising in Remus's cheeks.

"Look, he's blushing! That means he likes you!" persisted James, last name unknown.

"No, it's because you're harassing him! Don't talk to my friend like that!" protested Lucy, her eyes swirling into those similar to Sirius's. "He doesn't need to prove himself to you losers, bunch of little boys with big words and nothing to show for it!"

"Now, Wendell, watch yourself—don't you know who this is?" asked James, pointing at the sudden regality in Sirius's posture. "He's Sirius Orion Black, the Third! I don't think you'll want someone talking about you bothering the Heir of the House of Black."

"He could be the Heir of the House of Idiots for all I care!" laughed Lucy mirthlessly, her silver eyes truly reflecting their irritation towards the two boys Remus found. "Probably already is!"

"Lucy—you should probably keep a bit quieter, the other tables will hear…" admonished Remus, all too aware of the magical society's prejudices and attitudes to those who spoke out against them.

"I thought you were my friend, Remus!" Lucy turned on him, casting her disapproving glare at the poor green-eyed boy next to her. She stood, unwilling to associate with those who cared far too much of what others thought of them. "I see you want to make boyfriends instead, though, carry on! I don't need you."

Lucy said the words she knew would hurt the most, and if the instant fall of his face was any indicator, she succeeded in her task.

"I hope you're happy!" she spat out at the boys who started this whole mess, looking rather unconcerned with her anger and more concerned in the dinner that appeared before their very eyes.

Lucy too would've considered the magical implications this had on Gamp's Transfiguration Laws, but she was too mad, too pissed off to even think right!

Whipping out her wand, to the amazement of the elder students, she cast a silent jinx on both boys, completely unawares to the flashing white color of their hair. And when the laughs broke out, it was Lucy who stormed from Hall, with no real direction in mind. She didn't need anyone to help her complete her aspirations, all she needed was her wand, a good book, a place to work, and a whole lot of knowledge.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Lucy's strange, but hopefully endearing obsession with the moon. Reviews are appreciated, see you next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated, except the OC's._

* * *

 **02\. Lucy and Moony**

 **DECEMBER 8 1976**

* * *

"No, no, no!" hissed Lucy, her wavy black hair falling into disarray with her frustration. The gray polymer of the prototype spacesuit wasn't binding properly with the glowing experimental Bubble-Head Charm she'd modified to suit the conditions of space.

Uncle Garrick had advised that something about the dimensions being too wide for the Charm, so she'd have to limit the spell even further, maybe even thinner than paper. Possibly even by micrometers onto every fiber in the cloth.

Scribbling her latest space test into her book, Lucy considered the magic she'd already discounted as a useful tool for space. It was a shame magic seemed to magnetically attract on similarly saturated locations of old, like Hogwarts or Diagon Alley. Which meant her actual launch would have to be adjusted for the increased number of external variables.

The same limits meant Lucy couldn't simply Apparate to the dusty surface of the Moon like nothing, sadly. Life was not one to make it so easy, a fact Lucy hated to acknowledge but loved to contradict.

Too soon, the perilous workshop rumbled with a warning for dinner—McGonagall had threatened Lucy with yearlong detentions to ensure she'd eat regularly—as every action Lucy had made since First Year done to benefit her impeding trip to the Moon, even if McGonagall didn't know the reason for her sporadic eating schedule. It wasn't like Lucy had the same resources available outside of Hogwarts to go to the Moon.

Which, by the way, contained so much magical power, Lucy often shuddered thinking about the potential energy she could harness for anything the moon did affect. A variety of animals, plants, and phenomena relied on the phases, but would they be affected being on the moon itself?

Lucy had half a mind taking some samples to the moon to see if they would react positively or negatively to the sheer concentration of Magic of the orb in the sky. It made sense that a full moon could be the strongest point of the moon's power over the Earth, but the surface of the moon could prove too overwhelming for the delicate creatures already affected by it.

She scribbled some more notes on the factor. Perhaps it would be enough to test the DNA sequences of the Moon Calf population during the various moon phases. It would be better with another species, but availability could not be outweighed in favor of strength overall.

The adorable silver creatures offered many benefits for protection and potion-making—their hides were used to create powerful artifacts that could reflect jinxes, curses, and hexes, their milk was used in medicinal potions for undoing curse effects—but only when harvested during the Full Moon.

Lucy decided to call it the _W_ variable when referenced in her calculations, if only to preserve the were- prefix that often came up when describing creatures of the moon.

Making her way to the hall, she kept her head stuck in the significantly longer book Dad gave her. It rivaled a textbook in information, but most people probably couldn't understand the parabolic graphs and charts, especially with the constant fluctuations of magic affecting results every so often.

She'd discovered it came at a rate last year, the rate of Magicality (or was it Magic-ability?) per square foot ( _MAG/ft2_ ) that varied by concentration but remained as constant as gravity when a magical individual was present within about two feet, leaving the proportions of the space suit laid out for her.

This discovery suggested that every wizard sourced the magical energy—which was why Hogwarts seemed to burst at the seams with magic.

Lucy shook her head from the thoughts of research for a second—the scent of food lingered in the air, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to the Great Hall for an actual dinner. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation—living off crackers and scraps Xeno brought her wasn't enough to sate her appetite.

Heading towards the dreamy-eyed pair at the Ravenclaw table, she glanced warily around in suspicion. Every student in Hogwarts knew about her obsession—it led to many unfavorable nicknames about her oddity, even by Wizarding standards.

But it was irrelevant really, because when she became stronger than Merlin, she'd see who was laughing then.

"Hello Lucy, how are your experiments going?" asked Xeno, his serene smile ever-present on his face. The Seventh-Year student had favored Lucy since First Year, where she smacked into the then-Second Year after the Welcoming Feast. "Find anything you can share to a couple of Ravenclaws?"

"If you're looking to steal my secrets, you'll have to pry my book from my cold, dead hands," Lucy drawled, taking a seat next to Pandora, who sat across from him. "McGonagall threatened me with eternal detention if she didn't see me in the Great Hall today."

"Why you became a Gryffindor I'll never know," said Pandora regrettably. Ravenclaws hated not knowing things. "You fit right into Ravenclaw—many of us could never even match your fervor for learning."

The reason she became a Gryffindor sat at the end of their designated table past the Hufflepuffs. Remus Lupin ate with his group of friends, the so-called rulers of the school: The Marauders. Naming themselves a bunch of rascals, they'd terrorized the school (mostly Severus Snape) since First Year.

Although strangely enough, they'd never targeted her, even after she jinxed them with a charm that persisted for a whole week.

"I've told you a billion times—the Hat thought me suited to the House of the Brave, not Brainy." Lucy scooped potatoes onto her plate. "Even if I'm not much in the way of brawn."

Pandora's baby-blue eyes glittered with mirth suddenly. What did she think the rest of us didn't?

"There something you want to say, dear?" asked Xeno, just as curious for what she just noticed.

"No."

Narrowing her eyes, Lucy turned to see what—no, who Pandora decided to stare at so intently. One Remus Lupin stared back into Lucy's silver eyes, his own leafy color more pronounced as he blinked in surprise.

Why was he staring at her? Whirling back around at Pandora, Lucy raised a brow.

"You want the reason Lupin's staring at me like I've committed a deadly sin?" smirked Lucy, a brief smile gracing her face. Some things never changed, it seemed. "He probably heard you ask why I'm in Gryffindor, Panda."

"Really, Remus Lupin?" asked Xeno, his brief social disconnection over. "How'd he steal you for the Lions?"

"Met him on the train First Year," Lucy answered swiftly, managing a small bite of the steak in front of her. "Told me I was brave, that Gryffindor would suit me better. And I foolishly believed him."

"Well, he had to have been correct if the Hat agreed," reasoned Pandora, her wisdom not reaching the betrayed feeling tucked in Lucy's heart.

"I guess."

* * *

 **DECEMBER 9 1976**

* * *

History of Magic had to be the least helpful class in the world for an aspiring scientist. Sadly, the future didn't matter yet for the teachers to ask students what they wanted to learn, rather favoring a constant core that Lucy deplored. Seventh Year was way too far away.

"Pssst!" hissed a male voice from behind, Lucy not caring enough to disrupt her mental process of brainstorming the next rocket design. "PSSSST!"

Still not turning, she aimed her Hornbeam wand menacingly in their direction.

"If you'd like to be in the next experimental rocket lying at the bottom of the Black Lake, all you have to do is say so."

The hissing stopped quickly after that, Lucy smiling at her own wit. She continued sketching the design, oddly shaped like the broomsticks Quidditch players rode to play games. It was the first attempt with a Magic kind of modification to the form.

Using metal and all the other insulation wasn't necessary if magic could simply charm the structure to retain heat and circulate oxygen within a set distance. Pondering another way to launch, Lucy considered that the magic she would need to have been strong enough for the broom.

But for this, she'd have to look up Broomstick creation, especially since it had to be fast enough to stop her from getting too exhausted.

Maybe the manufacturers capped Broom-speed like a car, so they wouldn't have to deal with wizards daring to go fast enough so they flattened on impact if they hit something. Good thing it'd be easy not to hit anything in space.

A bell chiming signaled the end of the class and Lucy took her book and walked towards Transfiguration, a class she often referred to for basic equations any idiot with working brain cells could do.

Not that she was dissing McGonagall, but if Peter Pettigrew could pass, anyone could.

The hallways parted around her as usual, her personalized Charm working diligently to redirect people's Magic Bubbles away from her own. Two feet was more than enough personal space for Lucy.

Of course, she always put it down during class—wouldn't want a teacher catching wind of such blatant use of magic in the halls.

"Wendell!" called a voice from behind, their hand not managing to breach the spell. Turning around, Lucy found the face from the annoying voice in History of Magic. "What the hell…?"

Before he could get too scared, Lucy hastily cancelled the Bubble Charm.

"What do you want, Hale?" she asked tersely, clutching her book tighter within her robe pocket. John Hale was a good looking Sixth Year, his brown hair curling just the right way and his jaw sharp but softening around his cheeks.

He reminded Lucy of a Michelangelo painting she once saw in Kennedy Space Center, hanging in Frank Polly's office. But that didn't mean he had the right to think she'd melt in his hands like putty.

"I'm wounded, Wendell—you're too harsh on this man's heart!" he grabbed her arm swiftly, laying her dainty hand on his chest. "I would forgive you if you went to Hogsmeade with me this weekend, however."

Raising her brows and opening her mouth to say exactly who he thought she was to fall so easily over that, another deep, eloquent voice captured her thoughts perfectly.

"I don't think she did anything she needs you to forgive," Remus Lupin cut in coldly, using his own arm as a spear separating John's puffed out chest and her pale arm. "Would you like to come to class with me, Lucy?"

Nodding faster than John could protest, she pulled her hands into her pockets instantly grasping for the soft spine. Her book was still safe, thankfully, and she let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Thanks Remus," she said, not daring to steal a glance at the boy who'd matured so much next to her. It seemed like only yesterday he'd been timid and shy of talking to people, but here he was five years later threatening other boys for her? Insane, wasn't it?

But while lost in her own mind, she failed to notice the older boy's gaze skim up and down her features.

* * *

Lucille Wendell. The girl he'd sworn off from since First Year was talking to John Hale, the rivaling Casanova to Sirius Black's well-established title. Her pitch-black hair had grown longer, trailing past the small of her back. Her face had become all angles, giving her the dramatic appearance that one would usually get with makeup.

Lucy Wendell had grown up in their time of separation, particularly enough to draw his eyes far lower than they usually would dare to go.

But now there was something clawing in the pit of his stomach, practically tearing at his throat as he refrained from blasting Hale from his spot, who stood ogling Lucy like a predator. Why was Remus so pissed?

He'd not talked to Lucy since that day in the Great Hall but seeing Hale put his mangy paws on the innocent girl was too much—no, he had to intervene.

Her mouth opened and closed many times—he assumed she was probably wondering what to say to the boy who rejected her friendship all those years ago. Remus could've been a Slytherin the way he manipulated her to get close enough to keep an eye on.

"So, still stuck on the Moon?" he asked, thankful to finally condition his face enough to not indicate he was on alert for related topics. Like Lucy clearly was.

"Unless they've stopped calling me 'Loony', where'd you get that idea that I'm not?" hummed Lucy, fiddling with something in her pockets. She always seemed to have something to do with the Moon, be it researching Charms that specifically relied on it, flora, fauna, Astronomy, Potions, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy.

Her brain was hardwired to analyze everything, a trait he'd picked up back in First Year.

"Oh, just curious," he said meekly, not trusting his voice to carry on more conversation. It wasn't like this with anyone else—even those of the fairer sex—he could easily talk to people that weren't Lucy Wendell.

Perhaps it was his fear of exposure, fear of her specifically, or something he didn't care to acknowledge, but the same feeling of danger still loomed around her like a second skin.

The way to the Transfiguration classroom was just up ahead, but as he turned to comment, words failed in light of those hauntingly familiar eyes. Silver, like the Moon he so detested. Remus cursed the world for capturing _clair de lune_ perfectly within Lucy's inquisitive gaze. She was staring at him like he'd done in the Great Hall, only this time, she had a slight frown on her face.

"Remus, why'd you save me from Hale?" Whirling around in front, she prevented him from running away—she would have her answer, no matter what. "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself."

"Hale…" How could Remus tell her that he was a massive playboy without sounding bitter? "Hale isn't a good person, Luce."

"And you're the model of perfect citizen?" she countered, raising a dark brow expectantly. "I don't recall you ever stopping people from calling me Loony."

"What makes you think I haven't?" he retorted, stifling a huff of disbelief. Did she really think Remus would let others hurt Lucy that way? "Noticed you've never been the subject of our pranks, have you? And all the people who have called you that seem to have unfortunate events occur to them the next day?"

She seemed to think about it, her eyebrows creasing into the familiar face of concentration.

"But why do you care so much—we're not friends, not since First Year," she ranted, anger visible in her eyes that looked much like Sirius's now. The storms focused on him, ready to cause as much destruction as possible. "I don't need you to pretend to care if you won't even talk to me anywhere but in secret. Wouldn't want Prefect Lupin hanging with Loony Lucy in public, would we?"

His gut felt like it was turning inside out in his body—did she really believe he thought her too strange for him? Remus's life was littered with unusual circumstances.

"No—" He started, but before he could say more she'd already gone into the classroom. Frowning at the now-vacant space in front of him, he took his seat next to Sirius.

"Loony say something to you about your… _furry little problem?_ " Sirius asked quietly, his wand focused on launching a counter-attack where Lucy had sat by the window. His friends were far too defensive of him—they meant the best, but Remus felt smothered by their overzealous behavior sometimes.

"Don't call her that." Remus snarled, pushing his wand down while Lucy's words echoed bitterly in his head. "Hale—" Sirius huffed a laugh. "—Hale was up to his tricks on Wendell. I couldn't let him try them on her, but then she thought I was a hypocrite for bothering to help in the first place!"

"Well, the last time you spoke to her was in First Year, wasn't it?" cut in James, his flamboyant theatrics nearly alerting McGonagall to their hushed discussion. "She would hate you for ignoring her for so long."

"All thanks to you guys, by the way," Remus bit back, watching perilously at the Professor, who was already suspicious of them. "And I didn't ignore her."

"Why do you care so much about the bird anyways—there's no shortage of girls at Hogwarts that **_aren't_** obsessed with the moon. I don't see why you think she'll figure it out if she never specified she cared about anything other than getting there."

For once, Sirius was making some sense—ironically making Remus the one being irrational. His pride not accepting the fact, Remus stared blankly at the silver-eyed cause of his distress.

"You know I'm right Moony…"

"So what if you're right?"

It was rash being too defensive, but he couldn't help thinking that his friends thought they knew better than he—who were they to decide his life choices and who he didn't want to be associated with?! After all, it wasn't them who had lycanthropy…they didn't suffer his pain every month, they didn't face the scrutiny and prejudice of the entire Wizarding world.

"I just don't want her to be hurt by Hale or figure out…you know. Lucy was my first friend at Hogwarts. You guys don't understand not believing you deserve friends or are worth any sort of kindness for the first decade of your life. Can you blame me for wanting to keep her away from people who'd hurt her?

Their solemn gazes made Remus want to hit a wall. He didn't want their pity—he was accustomed to people not knowing, and sometimes he felt it was easier living in seclusion—at least then, there'd not be the pitiful stares.

"It's not just about keeping her safe, you forget you have your own problem—" James looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation. Lowering his voice, he continued, "—she could figure it out, and then where would we be? Obliviating her? I know you don't want that."

His friends were a bunch of idiots sometimes, but this was the rare case where their reasoning overruled Remus's sense of chivalry for Lucy. With a dying hope fizzling in his stomach, Remus realized he didn't need to intervene in her life, even if she could be oblivious to male advances—she'd been top of nearly every class for ages, rivalling James's long-time crush Lily Evans for her skill with magic. These conceding points in mind, Remus stared wistfully at the wavy-haired girl sat just a few desks ahead of him.

Some things weren't just meant to be.

* * *

Remus Lupin had _changed_ in the five years he'd practically ignored Lucy. There wasn't anything she'd really noticed in his disposition changing (sweet, yet a bit slow), but physically?

That boy was nearly twice the length she was—and hairier too! Remus also seemed to think Lucy would smooth over five years like nothing, like she hadn't felt betrayed or pissed off that he'd chosen some guys over her, the girl he'd wanted to be with him throughout their years in Gryffindor.

No, Lucille Wendell was not jealous of some morons with fancy titles or arrogant demeanors because that wouldn't get her closer to her priority—going to the moon.

 _So what_ if Remus Lupin had just defended her from John Hale (his persistence seemed to get higher this past year), _so what_ if he'd stared at her like she'd been worth all the diamonds in the world? It didn't matter!

No, no boy would get in her way, no matter how gallant or handsome they were.

This thought in mind, Lucy very convincingly (hopefully) put on the façade of paying attention to McGonagall's lecture. Really, she did try—but then the wooden desks in front of her reminded her of the newest kind of "rocket" Lucy planned on using to go into space.

She stifled a laugh at the idea of a witch riding into the stratosphere with a bag and a broom—turned out Muggles did have some notion of coming up with that myth. But where they got the ugly green color and warty nose, Lucy wasn't sure.

The woods commonly used for Broomsticks were similar to wand-woods—they required some kind of magical attraction to successfully bind with the user's own magical core—the difference was in the intricacies.

Metal was often placed strategically near twigs at the end, allowing the wizard to effectively go faster in speed-related circumstances. It lowered air resistance, but still added a bit of _oomph_ to the user's overall ride.

"..your turn…dog…wood…"

Lucy didn't need comfort—she needed speed. Gravity, at a fixed 9.8m/s2, allowed the MAG variable to overrule it. This factor, not considered by Muggle scientists, made her job all the harder.

Theoretically, G was supposed to be considered infallible, the speed at which objects accelerated to Earth—which meant that MAG was its own separate calculation when testing broom speeds.

"…Wendell..."

What if she could isolate MAG entirely? That would eliminate the need to account for gravity in her math but would be difficult to contain when her own magical core affected the variable.

A Featherlight charm would be effective in doing so, but the broom could be too unstable to contain if there was no drag on the tail to allow velocity to occur.

"WENDELL!"

Spooked, Lucy peered up from her mad scribbles at the bespectacled professor before her desk.

"It seems Miss Wendell has finally decided to join the class—" The Slytherins in the audience sniggered quietly. "—would you care to perform a demonstration of what I've lectured about in the past hour?" she asked, her eyebrows forming a hawk-like frown. Lucy gulped. "Or would you prefer a detention? I'm not picky."

"I'll do the demonstration," Lucy said rashly, much to the hisses of second-hand embarrassment her fellow Gryffindors felt for the incoming detention.

She recalled reading on the board—something about turning a chair into a guinea pig? Risking a glance on her way to the front, she quickly scanned the cursive mess for something of use…it looked like it was a dog instead?

Pulling out her wand, Lucy waited for McGonagall's nod of affirmation with a hammering heart and fluttering stomach. What was the incantation? Merlin, she was so screwed. For some reason, her eyes drew towards the Marauders at the back of the classroom.

Sirius Black, whose face was far too interested in what she'd do next, narrowed his eyes dubiously at her. James Potter too peered over his glasses in curiosity, but his cocky look of disbelief nearly made her huff. Remus Lupin avoided her silver gaze, preferring to stare directly at the chair before her, which spurred her brain into action.

"Canisifors!" exclaimed Lucy at the tilt of the professor's hat, the swift jab of her wand making the chair at the front of the room flash bright yellow before a Golden Retriever barked its arrival into the classroom.

McGonagall called it to her, the large dog trotting happily towards the witch. She seemed to eye it over carefully, during which the classroom held their breath in unison.

The Slytherins, quite rightfully so, wanted her to have made an error—she could see it on their beady little eyes when the dog had spawned into existence.

The Gryffindors on the other hand, were curious to see Lucy face their Head of House so impulsively—she either had guts or was a fool to dare try the merciless old woman.

Professor McGonagall seemed to be of the latter mind—a minute later, and the elderly witch used her own wand to make the well-worn chair appear back in the dog's place.

"Well, Miss Wendell, do try to follow along—even if you already seem to grasp this concept quite well." McGonagall smiled (at least, it looked like one for the hawkish woman), a rare expression on her wrinkly face. "10 points for being the first to perform the spell in this session."

Lucy was quite sure she'd combust with joy as she made her way back to her seat—not even the admirable appraisal in Remus Lupin's forest green eyes could dent the well of pride in her chest.

The demonstration only sent her mind into further delving of possibilities for her new Broom design—could Transfiguration be the missing factor she'd not considered before?

Her favorite type of spells for modifications were Charms, but perhaps Transfiguring the metal supports to Vanish when not needed to counter air-resistance. It could override the need for extra weight on the drag of the tail and allow Lucy more weight on the handle end to carry some samples with her. She wanted all the possible specimen to be exposed to the Moon's surface to see if it really did affect it enough to warrant a sort of charging or containment of magical energy she'd obtain from being on the surface.

If all the Moon-reliant creatures needed the Moon to…function (or occur?), in other words, couldn't one simply capture the style of magic the moon emitted every cycle? Would it overcharge when back on Earth? Having the Moon factor could accelerate experimental trials on curses, potions, or any other Moon specimen that would otherwise take too long!

If something could be UnTransfigured, it could be UnMoonified as well—making were-creatures free of their curse if they so wished.

So, for the rest of the day, Lucy Wendell day-dreamed of how the surface of the Moon would look like once she got out of the Earth's gravitational pull. It held so many of her future inventions, Lucy could hardly wait to step foot on the Moon—and fangirl over the footsteps left by Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong. Dad would be proud of all the efforts she'd made—Lucy was certain of it, even if he couldn't be there to enthuse with her.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed, follow/favorite/review for more of Lucy's obsession for the moon! See you next chapter, and hopefully we'll see a bit more of Moony and Lucy next chapter~


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated, except the OC's._

* * *

 **03\. Careful Plans**

 **DECEMBER 11 1976**

* * *

The broom was coming along nicely—so much so, that Lucy wondered why she even bothered making an actual rocket when a simple broom could do the trick better.

Uncle Garrick, understandably had a strong curiosity for _why_ Lucy had needed a particularly long branch of Ebony wand wood.

It was expensive; finding _capable_ wood for wands was hard enough unless one wanted to soak the non-magical kind in Tears of Bowtruckle (extremely pricy as well for the economic Wandmaker) for over two months.

The letter Lucy received a few days prior had highlighted every potential issue she _might_ have with the untampered wood.

" _Dear Lucille,_

 _I believe this sample may be what you've asked for. Know it was not easy finding nor getting past the watchful eyes of Gwendolyn._

 _I'm very curious to know if this prototype broomstick of yours will be fast enough to penetrate the atmosphere unscathed—I'm sure you're aware of the lack of oxygen and intermolecular forces in space. Please keep me updated with your progression._

 _I suggest you treat it prior to spellcasting and remember that this is no ordinary piece of wood. I don't think you need the reminder that Ebony favors an individual who prides themselves on being true to their heart. However, I do believe you will not struggle to work with this wand wood, dear._

 _I know you like doing things yourself, so I've only done the honor of carving a rough shape that's fit to ride. Feel free to adjust._

 _Yours,_

 _Uncle Garrick"_

He was right about it not struggling in accepting the spells she needed to Charm it with—the handle accepted each slowly, but with a reassuring thoroughness Lucy was happy to note. Her research on Brooms meant that there had to be many added in layers to bind properly, and some Charms would sometimes counter-indict others.

However, as much progress as she made, Enchanting was slow. Lucy had blown off the last two class periods before Dinner to work on her project, but when Lily Evan's red hair passed the Seventh Floor Corridor for the third time, she finally let the broom rest.

Her meticulous planning had allowed her _some_ time fordecorations later, thankfully, and Lucy knew exactly what she would name the fastest broom in the world. She found it in one of the earliest names Dad had for her in his own scribbles before he'd given her his journal.

His little _Starstrider_.

* * *

 **DECEMBER 12 1976**

* * *

Twigs sucked to pick.

Lucy had accumulated well over thirty different twigs of various lengths—she'd trim them later in the Workshop but finding specifically birch (rumored to be excellent for stability at high altitudes, of which Lucy definitely required) was harder than she expected.

The trees around the Forbidden Forest were dark (usually elms, pines, and spruce) and tall—birch was a light tree, detectable by the gray rings around a pale bark.

Her hair was pulled back like always, but branches continued finding their way into the elaborate black knots, nearly knocking her out of the past two trees she'd scaled prior.

Bowtruckles _infested_ each crevice, and a wrong snap of a twig might be a corpse of the poor animals, forcing Lucy out of the tree as well—her failure to acknowledge them before her outing left tiny scratches all over her limbs, which stung and itched as she picked what looked like a good enough stick.

Broomsticks needed about 60 maximum twigs to add tail-drag. The laws of aviation were bent all the time, though—bees flew, even while their bodies were too fat for their wings to be able to lift them off the ground—so Lucy decided for her slim end of the broom handle, fifty would do.

So long as thrust matched drag in the air (Newton's First Law when applied to aviation), the broom would reliably perform at an unchanging speed. The vector quantities all supposedly applied to magic properties as well—Force, Acceleration, Momentum, Velocity. But MAG as a vector force?

Did that theory make it vector? Lucy supposed it wasn't, since it didn't have a direction it really originated in. Scalar force then, even if the numerical value alternated by wizard.

She noted it in her journal.

* * *

 **DECEMBER 13 1976**

* * *

Lucy sprinted into the Great Hall before McGonagall could catch her _not_ at dinner, because miraculously somehow, Lucy had missed getting detention when the Deputy Headmistress went off campus the last two days.

The Hall was completely decked in white garlands, holly, and a line of pines for the holidays, and after enjoying the glimmering snow falling above the student's heads with orange candlelight, she found her way to the edge of the Ravenclaw table.

Lucy's ebony broom was nearly finished—all it needed was a few testing maneuvers, but she wasn't sure she'd be the best candidate for the job. Lucille Wendell was a scientist, not an athlete.

There'd be no telling if her experimental broom could handle extreme stress—like one a Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Slytherin would handedly provide—so Lucy would have to ask, dare she admit it, for help.

And no one was a crazier possibility than Mr. James Fleamont Potter.

His messy head poked out from the familiar corner of the Gryffindor table. Sirius and Peter Pettigrew seemed to be arguing over something while James stuffed himself silly with treacle tart. Remus's Sixth _freaking_ Sense must've kicked in with her assessment though, because he instantly found her inquisitive gaze stuck on the Marauder's end of the table.

"Reciprocating Lupin's stare now, Lucy?"

Whirling fast as her neck would allow, she shook her head vehemently.

"No! Where in the hell did you get that idea?! I'm looking at _James_ , for your information!" Lucy exclaimed, her heart pounding like a child's that got caught with their hand in the metaphorical cookie jar.

"Keep denying it more, I'll try believing it, sweetie," chuckled Xenophilius, gracefully swooping a brief kiss onto Pandora's grinning face. Her pale blue eyes glinted like she was a cat that caught the damned canary.

"I don't believe Remus would be too happy with that development, Lucy," she sung, but Pandora was delusional again. Must be all the Nargles she'd been complaining about before Lucy went out to pick her twigs.

Her comment, however jokingly said, irritated Lucy far more than it should have. After all, Remus had _no_ claim to her, especially not as his _girlfriend_.

"I don't care what _Remus_ thinks—I need _James_ for an experiment," Lucy grit out, her hands rising and falling in exasperation.

After all, how did one ask another person to potentially risk their lives on a broom created by a deranged 16-year-old obsessed with the moon?

Lucy wasn't sure he'd be bribed easily. Perhaps Chocolate Frogs? James seemed to be enamored by whatever sweets he could get his hands on.

The idea smacked Lucy out of thin air with a high-pitched laugh from the Teacher's Table. She'd ask James in Charms!

Quite easily, Lucy was certain she was Professor Flitwick's favorite student of all time. No one had ever questioned the very essence of the Charms he taught, adjusted the very spells themselves to _her_ liking, or even cared so much on how a Charm could fluctuate so easily!

But however, so much as he liked Lucy, Flitwick did not enjoy having all four Marauders in one class.

She'd overheard conversations in the Teacher's Lounge that pointed to the rapscallion group being one of the most infamous to have in a single classroom at any given time. Their only reprieve was that Remus and Peter often split into their respective classrooms peacefully when not in the presence of Sirius and James.

Perhaps that balanced them out some.

* * *

"James!" she hissed, throwing paper swans at the furthest chair from the studded windows of the classroom. They opened mid-air, gracefully swirling in their stride to the target in question. "JAMES!"

Professor Flitwick _almost_ spoke up, but once he saw the originator, he sat on his stack of books and admired the delicate birds progress on their way to annoy the poor boy sitting amidst his friends. It was nice to see them irritated as much as they did to him, it seemed, and Lucy suppressed a laugh as Flitwick continued with his cheerful humming.

"WHAT?!" yelled James, finally turning to look at the persistent Sixth Year practically across the entire classroom.

 _Everyone_ turned to look at the mental boy, who refused to back down from glaring around the room. Amos Diggory sniggered quietly with Marlene McKinnon in the front row, careful to note the frown on Flitwick's pinched features.

"Mr. _Potter_ , keep your voice _down_!"

Fuming, James stuck his hand through his hair, messing it even more than it already was.

"Did you need something, Wendell?" said James quietly through gritted teeth, swatting the swans that hovered above his head absentmindedly.

"Open a swan!"

He grabbed a blue colored one, making the rest of the Vanish except for the one in his hand. Lucy knew what it read, for she'd come up with the spell a few days prior—perfect for annoying people _and_ sending notes. He'd either agree or disagree—and the note would flare a red or green color in confirmation.

"Yeah, alright. Now stop bothering me!"

* * *

 **DECEMBER 14 1976**

* * *

Lucy waited in the Trophy Room a good hour before the set meeting time at one in the morning—well past curfew. She wasn't sure if he'd bring his posse—or if it'd just be James and no one else. But Lucy wasn't anything if not paranoid. She had an escape plan ready in case he went volatile. Or if his friends did.

She didn't fancy fighting a three against one, as Remus wouldn't harm her if he knew what was good for him. Although, he'd let Lucy slip by as a friend, so maybe he didn't.

"You're here early—my plans for pranking you for that stunt in Charms is foiled!" James exclaimed dramatically, fluffing his hair in a way that made all the hair in front stick straight up. He might've just been electrocuted from a socket the way he kept messing it all up.

"Yeah, yeah, I have an important proposition for you," cut in Lucy, wanting to get to the point before anyone (Filch) could catch them out after curfew.

"A proposition? Would it include anything to do with the Ball Dumbledore announced earlier? Because, I'm afraid I'm going to have to turn you do—"

"No, idiot!" Mortified, Lucy prayed he wouldn't catch her blush in the dark. "I…made something you might be interested in. I'm willing to let you use it for the final game of the Quidditch Season—if you tell me things I need to fix before I consider it finalized."

"I'm no cheater, Wendell." James looked affronted in the dim lighting from the glare of the trophies. A scuffle made Lucy anxiously look at the door, but there was no one there.

"Not to cheat, I'm not like that either, _Potter_ —" Lucy didn't like people calling her by her last name when she had a perfectly good first name too— "I have a broom. I promise, you've never used anything like it before."

Now he looked hooked. All she needed was to reel him in.

"A _**broom**_?! You _made_ a broom?! Can I see it?!" Before he could ask more questions, she held out the six-foot handle of her proud achievement.

From what he could see, the broom was gorgeous—it had silver trailing all along the side, with a beautiful polish highlighting every grain of wood Lucy'd painstakingly enchanted to fly. The weighed side of the broom held a delicate curve (a comfort she couldn't refrain from adding) and perfectly straight twigs—as if she'd picked them from the birch trees they originated from (which she had).

Breathless, James practically fell to his knees in awe of the charcoal beauty in front of him.

"Is-is that goblin-made silver?"

"It's the best for drag when considering flight mechanics—according to _Quidditch through the Ages_ the highest quality metal frames should be goblin-made _._ It cost an arm and a leg."

And a prototypical Moon Calf Milk healing potion rights to Saint Mungo's Hospital for Maladies and Injuries. But James didn't need to know that.

It was a good thing the Mama Mooncalves and the bulls had allowed her near enough to milk them last full moon. A howl characteristic of a wolf had frightened the herd past the Black Lake, and they'd been antsier than usual. They were known for casting vicious defensive magic on potential predators–making the Milk infamously hard to get a hold of.

"And…and you're giving it to me?!" James looked like he'd consider willingly giving Lucy his firstborn child for the broom, something she nearly laughed at to his face.

"Not _give._ **Test** ," enunciated Lucy, careful to stress the testing part of the enigmatic situation. "I expect a form filled after every use, so I can fix any issues that you think are worth fixing or any special things you think a broom ought to have. Don't limit your suggestions."

Chances were, Lucy could Charm a pair of pants onto a raging bull blindfolded.

"That's it?!"

Well, if Lucy wasn't shocked James was even crazier than she'd given him credit for.

"What do you mean _that's it_? You want to _give_ me something?!" asked Lucy, each word getting higher pitched in surprise as James nodded furiously. He looked clueless for a second, but then something of a devious smirk crossed his pointed features.

"I think I could _kiss_ you!"

* * *

Remus thought he knew anger. He knew pain, he knew sadness, he knew happiness, and _he thought he knew anger_.

Seeing James tell _Lucy freaking Wendell_ he'd like to kiss her ranked highest on reasons for being so pissed at James, Remus barely refrained from hexing him on the spot! Sirius's calm hand stopped him from going out from under the cloak to strangle the insane boy in front of Lucy.

His gray eyes shone in the familiar way that promised there was something planned for Lucy—sending an uncomfortable tug on his stomach. Were they pranking her?

Desperate to find out answers, Remus shook his head furiously in James's direction, if only so Sirius could get the clue. But then Lucy kept talking, her porcelain face glowing in the dim lighting from the trophies.

"Good joke, James—I'll give you the forms to fill out tomorrow," she laughed. Laughed in James Potter's handsome, messy-haired face, and grabbed her broom one last time. "Press the button at the base of the handle, by the way. It won't disengage while in motion, so don't worry."

Lucy backed off as she watched him, a peculiar smile on her face and a certain scrutiny that sent tremors of pure, unadulterated rage down Remus's back towards James with every little shift of her silver eyes.

Then the dolt in question pushed it, making the two-meter-long broom shrink into something the size of a toilet paper tube.

" _WHAT HAPPENED TO IT?!"_ shrieked James, his voice high and his jaw dropping open.

"It's collapsible, you idiot! Keep it down!" hissed Lucy, shaking her head at James's flair for drama. "You're going to wake up the whole castle!"

Remus didn't think Lucy Wendell could get any more amazing than she already was—how in the world did she make it compact? Undetectable Extension Charm?

Those were far beyond NEWT Level, and even wizards outside of Hogwarts often bought already Charmed objects. She had bound it to a simple _button_ press—once again adding Muggle flairs to things strictly meant to use with only Magic.

"Wen—Lucy, I'm feeling generous now—" James winked in their undisclosed direction, and Lucy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Would you be my guest at the Yule Ball? Evans wouldn't agree anyways—and you've given me this _awesome_ broom—I think it'd be a grand time, what do you say?"

Remus wasn't sure if his heart stopped—or if his hand gripped Sirius so tight, it was a wonder he didn't yelp in pain. He probably did both, especially as Lucy smiled with a sweet flush, her lips stretching adorably in a pink smirk.

Was she…being _**coy**_?

"Well, I don't know James—what if I get attacked by those hooligans you call friends? I know you've brought them, somehow." Lucy glanced around again, her silver eyes flashing in every corner of the room. When she cocked her head in their direction, they stopped breathing, if only to stop from her noticing them.

"What do you mean, it's just us!" played off James, his own nerves acting up as she came closer to their discovery. "And is that a yes or no—I need to tell Mum, so she can help you find our matching attire—No one can say James Potter isn't fashionable, or his dates."

 _ **Date?**_ _Lucy Wendell as James's_ _ **date?**_ His lungs collapsed into deflated balloons—his heart pounded so fast, it was like he'd ran a marathon—why was this happening to him?

Remus knew it had to be because of _her_ —that blasted girl in front of James _fucking_ Potter who still hadn't given him a straight answer on whether or not she'd go to the Ball with _him._

"Really? You'd get me a dress?" Lucy exclaimed happily, her features alight with relief and curiosity—in fact, one could say she looked happy to be _James Potter's_ _ **date**_ to the Yule Ball.

"Yep, we have to look good while crushing all the other girls' hopes and dreams!"

"Well…okay!"

Two words. Two words made Remus Lupin catatonic in his frozen place by the entrance to the Hogwarts Trophy Room. Two _obstinately simple_ words made his anger spike to a level he _thought_ was the highest it'd ever go—but how could he be mad at Lucy?

Remus had _**no**_ reason to explain why Lucy couldn't go to the Ball with James. They weren't dating, they weren't close, hell, they weren't even _friends_. He'd spoken to her only a few days ago, aside from the couple of class-related incidents in which he _could_ talk to her without choking up.

It was like his heart stopped in its place with the _shocking_ realization. He couldn't really protest two people going to a dance together, especially not when it was his best mate and the first friend he'd ever had.

Maybe they'd be _happy_ going to the Yule Ball together. But it certainly wouldn't make Remus not _pissed off_ or bitter towards them, petty as it was. He hadn't even noticed the pair had stopped talking and moved in their location. Sirius's hand pulled him back as they peered out the entrance for the familiar footsteps Remus had run from before.

Filch.

"Oh fuck, it's Filch! I'll see you tomorrow, James. Good luck getting to the Common Room!" And Lucy vanished into the shadows with a flash, her wavy hair trailing past the opposite corner and into the night.

Was that a Disillusionment Charm? Remus couldn't speculate more, as James suddenly whooshed under his Invisibility Cloak with the rest of the Marauders.

"Excellent, I've got a date!" Even Sirius didn't stop Remus from whacking the _idiot_ upside the head.

"Shut up, Potter," said Remus coldly, surprising even himself with the tone of voice he used. He couldn't help the swell of bitterness. They all knew why Lucy mattered so much to him. But if James was going to play dirty, so would he.

Last Remus heard, _Lily Evans_ didn't have a date to the Ball either.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Thanks for reading my story!_** ** _I was super surprised to get very generous reviews (although, they were appreciated, both made my day when I got the notification) and the follows and favorites! I'm debating on whether I should make the story more serious or lighthearted, as it has been so far. I put the "M-rating" on it because I'm not sure yet. Hopefully you liked this chapter, prepare yourselves for the next one ;) R/R if you'd like to!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated, except the OC's._

* * *

 **04\. Wrong Ideas**

 **DECEMBER 15 1976**

 _9 days before the Yule Ball_

* * *

It was a universal truth (apparently) that when a girl went to a dance with a boy, they _must be_ dating to do so.

Lucy discovered this phenomenon walking to her Herbology class, during which Alice Fawley, Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and Mary Macdonald cornered her in her secluded area of Greenhouse Six. On the last day of lessons too!

"You're going to the Ball with _James Potter?!_ " shrieked Lily, unable to comprehend that Lucy _willingly_ accepted the invitation. "Dumbledore barely announced it two days ago!"

Lucy stuck her entire arm into the Snargaluff…(thing?), which remarkably looked like a gnarly stump.

"Did he do something to make you go? Blackmail?" asked Alice seriously, her kind brown eyes wide in astonishment and worry. "We'll sort him out if he did!"

Lucy attacked the vines that tried extracting her arm from its crevice—the Pod was her grade for the day.

"Ohh, if Black did something to make you go—I swear, he's no good like his—" Lucy cut Mary off, feeling a bit sorry for the poor guy (and for her honestly, are you kidding, Black-mail?).

Your family is rumored to be a Dark bunch of people and suddenly you're a killer because you're related? Not in Lucy's book.

She set down the fluffy pod-thing and looked at the four girls in exasperation.

"Why is it so hard to believe I'm going with James?" Lucy questioned, frustrated with their incessant spam attacks. James wasn't _awful_. Not like he used to be in first, second, and third year. "He's nice, good-looking—"

"You're not _supposed_ to go with him because you have Remus _bloody_ Lupin at your heels like a whipped dog!" cried Marlene, not realizing Lucy'd (luckily) casted a sound Charm to stop Professor Sprout from noticing their verbal sparring. At the chastening of her friends, she continued, albeit—much quieter: "Why would you choose James over him?!"

" _Choose?_ " Perhaps Marlene went too far, perhaps Lucy should've taken it better, and perhaps the devil himself shouldn't have tapped her on the shoulder right that instant.

"I swear to God, if you ask me one more time if I'm going with James to the Ball—the answer is _YES!_ " she began, ready to chew out the next person who dared annoy her with stupid questions about the Yule _freaking_ Ball—and then she glanced clearly at the offender.

Remus. Oh Lord. Lucy might've just kicked his puppy the way he grimaced down at her.

"Er—wasn't going to ask that, Lucy." He seemed at a loss, whatever he meant to say must've slipped his mind. "Ah, Lily—can I talk to you outside for a second?"

Lily raised her eyebrows at him, one poking up in question.

"Sure, Remus."

"Ooh…" Marlene seemed to understand something at that instant—her blue eyes shone in the afternoon sun like she'd discovered the secret to immortality or something.

"Ohhhh?" Mary and Alice chorused, already forgetting about bugging Lucy about her _honestly_ questionable decisions. They left to their own side of the greenhouse, allowing her some peace and quiet for once since the news broke.

James Potter was the wonder boy of Hogwarts—every girl in the castle must've had a crush on him at _least_ once—were it not for his peculiar obsession with Lily Evans, he would've been a worse version of Sirius Black.

Which made Lucy instantly a topic of interest amidst the gossip around school.

She'd heard them at least once walking around the school—one accusing her of _Charming_ James to go the Ball with her, because, who in their _right mind_ would go with _Loony_. It totally didn't irritate her though—not when James held the most expensive design for the Moon trip in his hands.

A rough estimate—assuming if the broom experiment was successful—meant that Lucy would _finally_ reach her goal in June. It would be best to go under the light of the Blue Full Moon. Blue Moons amplified the usual effect the Full Moon had for creatures, magical and mundane—making it easier for her to try and estimate the type of magic it produced. But the estimate would only work if the Wizarding World didn't have extenuating circumstances.

 _Whispers_ were going around.

Whispers of someone named Lord Voldemort (who wasn't _really_ a Lord, as Lucy'd checked up on the history of the named Lords of England and he wasn't on it) flew around as often as Lucy's own name did. She'd already been exposed to his _followers_ before—the infamous Death Eater attack at Grandpa's funeral.

Lucy didn't care much for some guy who thought himself better than others, nor those who believed in terroristic behavior to _cull_ Muggleborn magic. It was unthinkable. Lucy knew many Muggleborn students who could perform magic better than Pureblooded ones, and if Half-Bloods counted, she could too.

However, the popularity stick had (sadly) whacked her _hard_ on the head, and it was difficult getting used to the attention it brought to unsavory characters. She'd even started casting the personalized Bubble Charm in the halls permanently—some people just didn't recognize personal _freaking_ space still applied to the so-called popular people as well.

Even if Lucy didn't think she counted as one, technically.

Most people usually left her alone—the oddity (Space Oddity had a nice ring to it) of the silver-eyed girl in Gryffindor was more than enough to ward off the Younger Years—but for the older students, it was more of a _I-don't-hang-out-with-weirdos_ kind of thing. In fact, the Marauders played a large part of her not interacting with people as well!

They usually took up enough of everyone else's attention on their own—so all anyone ever said about Gryffindors was usually related to them.

"Wendell—you must be a lucky bird!" exclaimed Sirius, acting as if he _hadn't_ heard she was going to the Ball with James. "Going with James is every girl's dream—and maybe one of mine, if girls weren't so bloody pretty."

"Need something, Sirius?" Lucy asked instantly, not wanting to get the volatile idiot in one of his infamous _Black_ moods.

"Am I that predictable?" Affronted, the drama queen brushed his long hair with a swipe of his mangy paw. "I just wanted to congratulate you—felling James Potter in an instant—who'd have known all a girl needed was a broom?"

"Not _a broom_ , the _Starstrider_. Didn't you read the inscription on the side?" complained Lucy, shifting her dragon-hide gloves into a more comfortable position. "How's he liking the broom?"

She prepared to cut the grapefruit-sized pod with her silver knife.

"Liking? That boy is _in love_ with it. I really think you'll have to pry it from his corpse after you blast him for not giving it back to you."

Said-boy poked his messy head into their conversation.

"You know me so well!"

The knife slipped viciously off the Snargaluff Pod, tearing a gaping slice into the upper skin of her right arm.

" _Arghhhhhhh!_ " Lucy screamed to the audience at Greenhouse Table Two, cradling her increasingly bloody arm with the left one. " _That fucking hurt!_ "

Both James and Sirius became dead serious, James going over to grip her arm softly to examine the cut better.

"That's too deep—you have to go to Pomfrey," Sirius commented, as if it was the weather he was discussing and not her _bloody freaking arm dripping all over the floor._ "At least you didn't take off your fingers!"

"Yeah, _at least_ she didn't cut off her fingers—shut up, Padfoot," murmured James with a frown, leading her towards Professor Sprout, a long hand on her back and arm instantly.

"Oh dear, you'll need to be more careful next time! These Snargaluff Pods are rather difficult to extract." Sprout shook her head pitifully at the injury. "Don't worry—at least I know you can extract one. That's a pass for today, and Mr. Potter, please escort her to the Hospital Wing, won't you?"

"Of course, Professor," he dutifully answered, pulling them out of the stuffy Greenhouse.

Remus and Lily both gasped when they saw the amount of blood staining her arm, now dripping past her elbow uncomfortably. How a slip of the hand could cause so much mess, Lucy couldn't tell—she was more concerned with the sinking sensation in her stomach. She couldn't explain how she knew—rather, felt as if the very _air_ thickened as Remus and James eyed one another.

What the hell?

It was bright out—the rolling hill where the Greenhouses nested wasn't far from the castle but the humid structures also opened to a beautiful expanse of wildflowers along the other hills, with trees scattered around randomly. The Whomping Willow swayed in the distance, and the Black Lake glittered ominously. It shouldn't have felt so… _odd._

And Lucy Wendell _knew_ odd.

"Are you okay?" asked Lily, breaking the tension with a green-eyed look of worry. "That really should be seen by Madam Pomfrey!"

"We're on our way now," James answered gruffly, pulling Lucy closer to him as to get on their way to the castle. "You guys ought to get back in the Greenhouse—Sprout might notice you've gone."

"No detours, _Potter_ , I don't think Lucy will want to know where you snogged Dorcas Meadowes last year," growled Remus suddenly, his tone icy. Why would Remus mention that to James? Was he trying to make _her_ jealous? It didn't make sense for him to be so…standoffish.

Then another thought came to her with a quick spike of anger. There Remus was again, deciding what Lucy should and shouldn't do. Her words spilled out before James could even reply, his body tensing behind her in preparation.

"I don't remember Lucy saying she _didn't_ want to—or her saying Remus could decide what she wanted to do—her name is Lucy Wendell and not Remus Lupin, right?" Lucy grit out, her jaw clenching with the sizzling rage she felt suddenly. Or maybe that was just her arm crying out for relief.

"C'mon, Lucy—your arm needs to be healed by Pomfrey." James turned her away from the pair, his eyes reflecting residual bits of anger swirling with hazel. Before they could exchange any more cutting words, he called back: "Have fun at the ball, Remus!"

When the hell did Remus not like James anymore? It was always the Marauders—not the James, not the Sirius, not the Peter, and not the Remus on their own— _the_ Marauders.

"Want to explain to me what happened there, James?" Lucy hissed out, her breathing becoming vapid huffs of air through her nostrils. "I know I didn't miss the _guy thing_ that happens when something serious happened."

"It's nothing." James tried to avoid her question, asking another instead. "Can you tell me how you got the _Starstrider_ to compact like that?"

"Only after you tell me why Remus is so mad at you—and vice versa."

"I'm not mad at him—he's mad at me, but I won't let him belittle you like that in front of anyone when it's not you he should be mad at," he ranted, his thoughts going off on a tangent Lucy couldn't fathom. She didn't even consider James was pissed off too.

"Uh, thanks, James?" And they said chivalry was dead. Lucy could barely keep up with the swirling revelations of the day, and it was only four o'clock. "And since you said why—It's a Charm—Undetectable Extension Charm, but not one, if that makes sense."

They entered the castle, the cool airiness pulling some of her hair out of the usual ponytail. Her arm blazed in agony but talking to James lessened some of it as a soothing distraction from the wound.

"A Charm? Not Conjuration and Vanishing?" James seemed at a loss, the earlier drama slipping his mind in curiosity. "I was sure it was Transfiguration—how else could you make it come out of thin air?"

"It's not really in thin air if you think of it as hidden away. It's still there, occupying some other dimension that contains the longer portion—but the button is the real magic." Lucy paused for dramatic effect, letting James catch on to what she wanted him to say.

"Real magic, you say?" he joked, grinning at the (stupid) pun Lucy waited for him to complete.

"Yeah, it undoes the effect—imagine UnTransfiguring something, but this time it's UnCharming something. I don't want it to be small anymore—I press the button. The broom wasn't created again, it simply appears as it should—a six-foot broom with the silver trimming. I'm done using it, I push the button again to tuck it in the interdimensional pockets of Non-Being. That make sense?"

"You're really good at it, aren't you? Undoing things?" James smiled softly, almost like he was laughing at himself for being so dumb. "I messed with it all night, pushing the button over and over—I couldn't believe you made the _Starstrider_. Rides like a cloud, and speeds like a shooting star. Amazing."

"Thanks." This time, Lucy didn't try hiding her blush from the compliment. But then she felt faint. Her stride wobbled, and her arm dripped a little too much down the baggy robes of the Hogwarts uniform.

"Lucy?" Alarmed, James looked around. They were just a few halls from the Wing. "Shit, don't talk anymore—I've got you."

Feeling weightless, Lucy let herself sink into the depths of oblivion, the throbbing in her arm becoming dull and slick with her own crimson blood. James must've been carrying her—but she couldn't find it in her to protest as the smell of pine and cinnamon tickled her nose. The metallic tinge of blood became stronger. Were they running now?

Lucy let her eyes close. A nap sounded good and maybe a muffin later too. Why was James yelling again?

"Madam Pomfrey! It's an emergency!"

* * *

 **DECEMBER 16 1976**

 _8 days before the Yule Ball_

* * *

"Did you hear about Lumes?"

"Did you hear about James Potter carrying Lucy Wendell to the Hospital Wing, covered in blood? I heard it from Linda—who heard it from Benjy—who was getting a Pepper-Up Potion when James _ran_ in, screaming his head off!"

"Oohhh! Apparently, Potter and Lupin dueled outside of the Greenhouses—Remus and Lily are going to the Yule Ball now, too!"

"Wow, they're fighting over some girls?"

"Yeah, but haven't you seen Wendell? Her boobs got bigger over the summer—and her face! She could be related to the Blacks if she weren't a Half-Blood. I'm not surprised to see Potter move on from Evans."

Flushing in embarrassment, Lucy tugged her robes closer to her body on her way to the Gryffindor table. Rumors were the plague of Hogwarts' magnificent Great Hall—no one knew _anything_ about the situation, but there were the wild speculations of those who thought they knew better than the people actually going through it.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath realizing it was Lucy herself, the rumor mill waiting for some new meat to grind up as she went to the Marauder end of the table. James had her form with him, but it was odd not seeing Remus sitting with them. He sat with the girls on the opposite end of the long table, Lily's cherry-red hair poking out from the familiar brunettes and blondes.

She filled Remus's vacated space with the remaining Marauders.

"How'd the duel go between you and Remus?" Lucy joked, eying the messy-haired boy in front of her.

"Must've missed his curse—you went to the Hospital Wing, not me," James smiled, the glint in his eyes even brighter. "Mind you, the blood was a tad too much."

"Could't stop myself from bleeding—sorry James. I'll try vomiting slugs instead next time."

"Now, now, lovebirds—let's not talk about vomiting slugs while there's a good plate filled with sausages and bacon, eh?" Peter commented, wrinkling his nose at our topic of discussion. "Let's talk about the Lumes ship that's sailing, alright?"

"Lumes?" Lucy asked, utterly dumbfounded. Was that a new boat or something?

"Pads came up with it—ask him." Peter continued eating.

"Pads?" James raised a brow, nudging the boy next to him.

"Sorry Prongs, it's too early to explain the complexities of ships to you and Lucy, remarkable as you are—let me finish my coffee." Finally raising his magnificent head from the table, he waved his black hair in a way only _Sirius Black_ could do.

She could hear girls swooning from the Hufflepuff table directly across from him.

"Don't think I'm forgetting, Sirius—or Pads, whatever you go by these days," muttered Lucy, grabbing a tantalizing chocolate muffin from the plate that appeared before them—which, she found out was a kind of Teleportation and _not_ Vanishing or Conjuring like she'd believed a few years ago.

Gamp's Elemental Transfiguration Laws prohibited food as something one could Transfigure—although, the very form of food was fair game. Lucy couldn't count the times someone had tricked another into biting into a cupcake as hard as a rock.

"You can't call me Pads—that's a Marauder thing only," Sirius protested, setting down his mug with the gracefulness of a princess. "You can only call me Sirius, Black, or idiot. I'm used to all of them."

"I think I like idiot the best, Idiot."

"Me too!"

A faint throat clearing came from the High Table.

"Ahem, students—I'm pleased to see so many of you staying for the Yule Ball held on Christmas Eve. Since this will be the second time Hogwarts has hosted it, I'll have to clarify some of the rules."

Lucy missed Dumbledore's previous announcement when she was making the _Starstrider_. Hopefully she'd find out information that she'd missed.

"Ladies are required to wear formal attire—of which include dresses. The same is expected for the gentlemen. Any hopeful younger years may _not_ attend unless invited by an older student—and we will be policing the entrances to ensure this remains so."

"But Headmaster Dumbledore, I left all _my_ dresses at home!" A voice whined loudly, much to the amusement of the Great Hall. The Gryffindor table burst into laughter, arguably the loudest amidst the four so early on a Saturday morning.

"Then, Mr. Black, you may borrow one of mine—I believe I am in possession of a spectacular blue-starred one for you to use for the Ball," replied Dumbledore, eyes twinkling and not letting the upstart steal his thunder from the student audience.

"Thank you!"

The dreary morning exploded into chatter, the girls instantly picking out what their features would match with on a dress, dress robes, or even suits for their future dates to match with.

"Padfoot, you are a beast!" James exclaimed, clapping the broad-shouldered boy on the back. "Interrupting Dumbledore like that—I'm surprised Minnie didn't blast you from your seat!"

"You call McGonagall _Minnie?_ " Lucy's jaw dropped at the audacity of the pair. "She'd skin you alive if she heard you, you know."

"Oh, we know," promised James, his troublemaker smirk appearing on his face in an instant. "Which is why we do it—wouldn't you want to be remembered as the kid who got incinerated by the Deputy Headmistress?"

"I suppose that'd be a good reason," droned Lucy sarcastically, eying the hawkish face of McGonagall wearily. "I think I'd want to go out as the girl who got blasted by Sinistra—she hates my guts."

"Yeah, I don't blame her—'Professor, you got this _ wrong about the Moon'—d'you have to know everything about the bloody orb in the sky?" Peter grouched, picking at his eggs.

"Yes Peter, I do—and if you don't like it, take it up with my dear friend here—" Lucy pulled her wand on Peter's watery-eye level. "—he'd be happy to help you."

"He? You made your wand a _he?_ " James huffed, ruffling his hair. Lucy figured it was a force of habit at this point.

"Isn't your wand a _she_?" barked Sirius, his chuckles turning into blown out laughter as James smacked his shoulder.

"Touché—but that doesn't make it not weird to give your wand a pronoun!" he exclaimed, stuffing a piece of buttered toast into his mouth. "Buh-de-wuh, her-de-fom."

"English, please?"

James continued chewing, pulling a form out of his pocket flamboyantly. With a big gulp, he repeated what Lucy assumed was what he said before.

" _By the way_ , here's the form."

The parchment she'd Charmed to make neat boxes was filled with surprisingly legible handwriting. Who'd have known James had better handwriting than some of the professors at Hogwarts (cough, cough, Slughorn)?

He filled out everything—up to the initial concerns and the potential additions to the frame.

"I think it's a good balance—" Okay, the drag worked out fine. "—good weight, but steering is a tad too sensitive—think that might be because of the grip though. I think it'd be cool to have a Warming Charm on it—temperatures up higher in the air tend to get pretty cold, but that can be fixed through Muggle means—Also the Repelling Charm, cos sometimes things get plastered on my face—bugs aren't fun to peel off after intense games, and if it's snowing when we're playing it'll—"

"James!" Lucy breathed out, her hand cramping with the amount of detail that boy was putting into his assessment. "Hang on a second, I need to write it down!"

"Is this yours or James's broom you're working on?" Peter commented wryly, a small smile on his squinty features.

"If James thinks he needs it, I'm adding it. Nothing against an ultra-modded Broom in the Quidditch rules, is there?"

"No, but—"

"I'm adding the Charms, no _buts_ needed! And don't worry James, I think I might have the Charm for repelling." The Magic Bubble Charm! But it could potentially affect other riders if more than one, so she discarded it as an option—she'd have to weave the spells into the MAG component of the effect source, which meant it would only turn on if a Wizard were supplying the magic.

Warming/Cooling Charms could be made into another button—maybe she'd need a separate panel to prevent James from hitting them randomly.

"Okay, and after the final game today—tell me what happens. I'll be in the audience watching, alright?"

"Alright! Get ready for a Gryffindor Trophy, boys. And Lucy."

* * *

The stands along the Quidditch Stadium _rumbled_ with excitement. Fans clad themselves in overwhelming shades of gold and red or silver and green, both clearly distinct on their opposing sides of the stadium. Chants _roared_ with jeers and cries of pure devotion to their teams, the Gryffindor stands joined with those of the rest of the Houses who refused to cheer for Slytherin yet were out of the running for the House Cup.

The players themselves buzzed around each other, huddling precariously above the ground in what looked like the final huddle of the season, each member on the Gryffindor team clasping their hands against each other like they were each other's sibling. The green monsters on the far end too seemed to be close—they faced each other solemnly as if it were life and death to win the final Quidditch Match (and consecutively, the House Cup) of 1976.

Lucy herself felt the apprehension in her very bones, and she wasn't even the one playing—James was. She couldn't believe the phenomenon either, it was as if everyone's MAG variable convoluted entirely within the very intensity she felt within herself. Like a tug—a thrumming of the air itself pulled at her belly.

She'd have to test it out in similarly charged environments.

Madam Hooch said something illegible to the audience, but Louis Wood nodded his head swiftly at Lucius Malfoy, who Lucy'd heard bragging about the newest Nimbus brooms he purchased in preparation for his final game versus Gryffindor. But he didn't know that James had a secret weapon as the Lead Chaser.

They wouldn't even see him coming, if her calculations had all gone to plan with the speed.

A wave of Madam Hooch's wand signaled the start of the game, green sparks flying grandly into the air.

"And they're off!" Sirius Black boomed, his silky voice resonating off the walls of the stadium. "It's Lancaster with the Quaffle, he passes to Potter—are you seeing that speed?"

And she did—the _Starstrider_ flew faster than a hummingbird—the charcoal colored broom blinked into existence like James was teleporting to the Quaffle, his daring twists and turns far too fast for the Nimbus 1200 to handle. From her vantage point, she could catch the slip of messy hair zipping around the Slytherin players like he'd seen them from miles away.

Lucy felt an overwhelming surge of pride overtake her.

 _She_ made that broom. _She_ was responsible for the absolute devastation Gryffindor ravaged on Slytherin. _She_ had given it to James, as a prominent test subject for her experiment. It was doing beautifully.

"Oh my God, it's like the Nimbus isn't even in the same category as the _Starstrider!_ " Sirius continued, praising the stellar performance of the broom. Bludgers swung precariously around James, making Lucy shriek in surprise at how close they came, but he was always a step ahead of them, several seconds faster than she could say 'Quidditch'.

Everything just seemed to be in slow-motion for James. And unbeknownst to Lucy, in slow motion for one Mr. Remus Lupin.

* * *

She'd gone to see James in the final game of the Quidditch Season. She cheered for him like the doting _girlfriend_ would do, and eyed him with no less than pure, undiluted amazement. Remus wasn't sure if he wanted to vomit or blast James out of the air if he could even hit the damned target.

It wasn't missed by Lily, who'd probably already figured out why he'd gotten so pissed off at James for what happened in Herbology—much to the ridiculous speculations of his fellow classmates. Seeing him _touch_ Lucy sent very unwelcome rolls of carnal possessiveness flow through him, but Remus once again was powerless.

He could do nothing. Nothing while James played the game of his life up in the air, his heart pounding millions of times a minute. Nothing while Lucy gasped every time a Bludger narrowly missed the messy-haired boy. Nothing while Lily Evans gripped his hand anxiously each blow of Hooch's whistle.

The novelty of getting something James didn't wore off faster than he could've imagined—For James had the very novelty as well, but he seemed to have a far better time than he did with Lily. It wasn't to say she was boring—rather, it was an undisclosed agreement that it would be better to remain as friends, despite attending the Yule Ball together.

Sometimes, though, he wondered if by kissing Evans, he'd forget entirely of the girl with silver eyes.

A resounding blast of inaudible applause and screeches suddenly filled the air, ripping the idea form his mind in an instant—millions of glittering gold streamers flooded every blink of his green eyes, and bits of red flaring in between. The Gryffindor audience bellowed every single bit of oxygen from their lungs into the air, their joy too great for their bodies to contain.

And then it was slow motion again for Remus Lupin as he waded through bodies going in every direction.

James Potter swept above everyone, his messy head poking out from the audience, the silver-trimmed _Starstrider_ glittering through the masses of people who sifted through the frozen grass to get to the wind-tumbled players. He was looking for someone. Someone that Remus had a very bad feeling was—

"POTTER! POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!"

Where was he? He was lifting someone on the broom with him, someone with a long, wavy black ponytail. _Please be Sirius, please—_ Someone might've thought an explosion went off, and perhaps, an explosion did go off in Remus Lupin's brain. Or heart. It didn't matter.

" _POTTER! POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!"_

 _ **Lucille Wendell**_ sat atop the _Starstrider_ , her hair blowing back by the millisecond and so close to James, she practically sat on his lap. _**James Potter**_ wrapped his arms around her petite form and _**kiss**_ _— **k-i-s-s-e-**_ _ **d—**_ _ **snogged**_ _ **Lucy Wendell**_ so ardently, Remus wasn't sure if he was having a heart attack or if he was about to transform into a _fucking_ werewolf like he did every _fucking_ Full Moon.

They'd been _seared_ into his brain. Every time he blinked it was James, then it was Lucy—now it was both of them, wrapped in their _fucking_ embrace for the adoring audience of Hogwarts to see. He couldn't even breathe right! Was he running? It didn't even _FUCKING MATTER_ , did it?

Remus's pants came out in frosty tendrils of air in front of him, the Forest's trees reflecting his internal turmoil. It always was his sanctuary, wasn't it? His mind whirled kilometers a minute, a second, a millisecond—

 _ **James fucking Potter just fucking kissed Lucille Wendell in front of**_ _ **everyone.**_ _ **And Remus couldn't even fucking think—he couldn't-**_

* * *

A/N: :) I did mention you needed to prepare yourselves, huh? Thank you for the new follows, favorites, and reviews! I can't tell you how much they make me smile. (A lot, by the way!) More Jealous Remus/Lily and Lumes, coming up next chapter c; Feel free to review/fav/follow!


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any associated characters—I only own the OC's._

* * *

 **05\. Jealousy is a Green-eyed Monster**

 **DECEMBER 17 1976**

 _7 days before the Yule Ball_

* * *

James Potter kissed her.

James Potter _kissed_ her!

Lucy wasn't sure if she was happy or not—her first kiss was very…public. And very wet.

The party going on around Lucy fell into nothing while lost in her thoughts. Did that make them a couple? The kiss felt _good_ , yeah, but the idea of _dating_ James hadn't crossed her mind before.

Maybe he'd only kissed her in the excitement of winning, in his rushed words only for her of how much he loved her for giving him the _Starstrider._ Maybe James loved the idea of her being the creator of the very object he'd used to win the Cup.

A ruffled head found her hiding place by the fireplace, carrying a glass of something amber. Liquor? Girls giggled as he approached, their dances cut short by a very unsteady gait.

"Lucy!" James exclaimed over the dull roar of the elated Gryffindors. "I got you some Firewhiskey!"

"Thanks, James," she said quietly, still pondering all the implications of his rashness. What if he and Remus never reconciled because of her? She wasn't stupid enough to ignore everyone's whispers.

Whispers about her being the ruin of the Marauders.

"Something wrong?" James went to sit by the blazing flames in front of her. His hazel eyes glowed in the firelight. "Are you mad at me? I'm sorry—"

"No." It was true, she wasn't mad at James. Perhaps the word was _conflicted_.

"Are you tired? You can come up to my room—no one will nag you for what happened on the field, and I'll make sure no one bothers you." Ever the gentleman, James rose and offered his hand. The girls nearby tittered in annoyance. "You don't need to drink this if you don't want to."

James drank it instead, his throat clearing as it burned a fiery path down his throat.

"Doesn't it hurt going down?" asked Lucy, concerned at his increasing sway.

"It's a nice burn. Makes me feel better about what I've done." She wasn't sure he was only talking about the game.

People called at them as they walked up to the Boy's Dormitory, winking very obviously at the pair. However, Lucy wasn't worried. James would never do anything she didn't want him to.

She could smell the very _essence_ of the Marauders before they even approached the door. It seemed _every_ boy had the uncouth conception that spraying body spray in every crevice made for a _clean enough_ living space. Although, Lucy wasn't the neatest person on earth either.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he stretched out his arms then bolting in before her to stuff some dirty clothes under his bed. But it was too late, and she caught the Snitch-covered underwear before he could push them away.

"Nice undies," she snickered, tearing her gaze away from James, a flush on his face. The room was circular, of course, Gryffindor Tower _was_ part of a castle, and there were four beds in the room with a tiny desk next to each. A single rug covered the stone floor, the gold and red colors of Gryffindor tying each bed together in a yarn circle.

Lucy was certain she could pick out each Marauder's bed quite easily even without their trunks having their names on them—Sirius had the half-naked girls plastered around his bedside, his sheets a mess, and black-hair-covered hairbrush lying innocently next to something that bubbled violently. She didn't want to know what was in it.

Peter was arguably the cleanest—perhaps his mother had taught him to be neat and not have clothes strewn about, unlike the others (Lucy included). He had the homeliest of pictures on his bedside, most of his frames containing the magical movement of a blonde that had his watery blue eyes. Maybe his dad gave him the squinty features.

Remus, the bookish Marauder, had his textbooks stacked haphazardly around his bed. Socks vanished into the unkempt trunk and ties were strewn on the bedframe. Somehow, she knew if she looked under it, there'd be quite the library. Wrappers of chocolate littered the floor by his bed, but other than that, he seemed to be _somewhat_ cleaner than Sirius and James.

Lucy wasn't sure if that was a compliment.

"You done checking our stuff out?" asked James, a wonky smile on his sharp features. "You'll not find the secret of the Sixth Year Boy's dormitory, so don't bother."

"Secret of the Sixth Year Boy's tower?" Lucy eyed the swaying boy carefully. "Are you sure you're okay, James?"

"I'm supposed to be asking you that—didn't you want to tell me something without all the people?" A buzzed James was still a reasonable James, it seemed.

"Yeah." Lucy went to sit on his bed, pushing the comforter away from the sheets. James, wobbly as he was, threw himself beside her, his eager eyes peering down from where they sat across, crisscross applesauce from each other on the bed.

"Well?"

"Do—" God, how did she ask him without sounding so… _girly?_ "—d'you want to be a couple, or was that kiss just…" She didn't want to say the words. Lucy didn't want to hear the possibility of it just being a one-time thing, because if she was being honest with herself, she _did_ like the idea of having a boyfriend, at least, one as sweet as James was.

"Oh," James said simply, his mind trying to comprehend the question. Lucy knew it was because he didn't know himself—but there she was asking an impossible question.

Everyone knew he'd been obsessed with Lily Evans for the past four years—and the possibility of it dying with a simple gift seemed unlikely in Lucy's point of view. Hell, it probably was to James's friends as well. Maybe that was why Remus and James were fighting still. Lucy wasn't naïve enough to believe Remus _didn't_ like her—which made the idea of dating James feel so… _guilty_.

Was she at fault for toying with Remus? Lucy wasn't sure she _liked_ the idea of him dating other girls either, especially not Lily Evans.

"Well—I do like you, a lot, actually—d'you like me? I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to—and I get if you don't, so don't worry about me feeling bad. Pining for someone else wasn't fun anymore, but I shouldn't have kissed you so suddenly in front of everyone, I'm sorry—" James continued rambling, his mouth running away with apologies and reassurances.

So that was why he asked Lucy to the ball. To try to get Lily Evans out of his mind.

"And I get if you hate me now, I won't bother you again—"

Lucy stopped him in his tracks, the impulse too great to restrain from watching James's panicked assurances. Oh, and he did shut up—he kissed her back, albeit, with much more intensity. James broke her second kiss ever, a wide grin on his face and exhaling from his nose like he'd been relieved.

"So, you don't hate me!" Lucy couldn't help the giggles that erupted from her chest. Boys were so wonderfully stupid. "Don't laugh, I thought you were ready to hate me forever!"

"Y-you're so dumb!" she let escape, her body shaking with mirth. James kept a look of faux-hurt on his face, a twinkle forming instantly.

"You like laughing?!" James started tickling her, his spindly fingers finding the most sensitive parts of her body like a practiced _torturer!_

"J-James!" Lucy shrieked now, unable to stop herself from squirming around on the sliding blankets. "Y-you better s-top or y-you'll wish you—you'd ne-ver been born!"

"Good thing I'm not stopping!" A cocky smirk sat firmly across his lips, the only thing missing a maniacal laugh as he kept his hands on her sides. "Who's a dumb boy now?!"

"S-still you!" Lucy grasped around for anything of use, a pillow, a bedsheet—it all seemed to fall as James's hands continued in their torture.

And then, as if James decided to give her a break, he loomed above her. She gasped for air, her chest heaving in relief of being tickled for so long. Damn her fickle tendencies!

"I'll stop if you say sorry," James said simply, holding up his hands in surrender. He held a predatory gleam in his eyes, that Lucy wasn't sure meant he would keep his word.

"Sor—just kidding!" She finally got a grip on the pillow under her and smacked it over his messy head. "Ha!"

"I'll get you!" James wrapped his long arms around her, lifting her off the bed itself as he tried grabbing the second pillow.

Lucy didn't know what hit her next—her heart beat rapidly in their brief eye contact, her silver ones narrowing intently on James's lips.

They connected in an instant, her flushed body suddenly under his own toned one. He tasted like the Firewhiskey he'd drunk downstairs, the savor of the alcohol entering her own mouth with a bittersweet tinge.

Lucy couldn't be bothered to care that she might be too rash to forget about Remus Lupin—no, she was too distracted by the tingles of James's hands scouring up and down under her shirt, this time each skim lingering and burning for long seconds after.

She heard a mouse gasp but hearing James's own groans sent far better waves of desire flooding through her. Her blissfully blank mind suddenly screamed at the thought of his roommates walking in on them, and Lucy pushed James to her side, his chest rising and falling as if he'd ran a marathon.

"I-I'm sorry—didn't think—" His mouth couldn't keep up with his gasps for air, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "—I went too fast, sorry—"

"I don't think we should go further—we _are_ in a room you share with three other guys," Lucy finally managed to say, her own body still recovering from the ecstasy of their spontaneous make-out session.

"Doesn't stop Sirius," James muttered with a laugh, pulling the blankets up around them. "Don't worry about the guys though—I'll make sure no one sees you coming out of here in the morning." He tapped his head. "Wouldn't want people getting the wrong idea, now would we?"

"Oh, and what idea is that, you dolt, that—" Lucy couldn't stop herself from giggling as she said her next words. "That we… _had sex?!"_

"What?!" James exclaimed mockingly, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "The pure, honorable James Fleamont Potter _having sex?!_ Never!"

"Pure, my ass."

"Yours is a very nice one, by the way," He quipped, Lucy's hand darting out to smack him on his untidy head.

"Shut up!"

* * *

 **DECEMBER 18 1976**

 _6 days before the Yule Ball_

* * *

If seeing them kiss in public was bad, seeing Lucy and James _making out in bed_ was agony in the _rawest,_ purest form for Remus.

He couldn't _stand_ in his place for a second longer—the horribly sick feeling clawing around in his stomach like he'd eaten a miniature Hungarian Horntail.

It'd been midnight when he'd finally made his way back from the Forest to the ear-splittingly loud party celebrating Gryffindor's win, only to hear the soft sighs and groans coming from James Potter's bed in their dorm room.

 _Lucy Wendell_ had her shirt halfway off, her silver eyes only on _James Potter_ , who ran his hands on her porcelain bare skin as they kissed furiously.

Remus might've gasped, he wasn't sure, but he was certain that any semblance of his once-devastatingly freezing anger died the minute he'd walked into the room. He'd stormed off without a word, unable to bear the idea of them sleeping in the same bed, or worse, _together_.

It wasn't an overreaction—was it?

Lucy wasn't his. Lucy wasn't his. Lucy wasn't his. The mantra constantly ran through Remus's mind every time he thought of her. She deserved a _whole_ person, not a monster. His First-year fear came back to haunt him again. Lucy could discover his lycanthropy. She could never speak to Remus again, and he wasn't sure if that was worse than seeing her with another person.

The moon peered in through the windows of Hogwarts castle, illuminating the halls in a melancholy light. Why did he have to be plagued with an _incurable monstrous_ condition?

Remus sank to the cold stone floor, damning whoever found him in his miserable state. His very existence hinged on the undeniable, irrevocable fact that he, undoubtedly, was a _werewolf._

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that he had to deal with being a werewolf on top of not being able to pursue a serious relationship because he was too much of a coward to admit he liked Lucy.

He knew he did—Lily, beautiful as she was, didn't hold a candle to Lucy in his eyes. Remus knew he had to make up with James.

It wasn't anyone's fault Lucy didn't go to the Ball with Remus except his own. James just had much better timing and far superior courage.

However, he didn't want to pine after a girl like James did. He didn't want the unbearable heartache every time he looked at her. But he didn't want to make Lucy not happy either. And if she was happy with James, how could he take that from her?

Maybe Remus could forget about Lucy by being with Lily. She seemed perfectly content with ignoring him the past five years anyways.

With a resounding sigh, Remus stared at the half-moon, its pale light reminding him of the girl slumbering in James Potter's bed. Soon it'd be time for his monthly, and then how would he refrain from murdering James?

Remus had to decide. Fast.

* * *

 **DECEMBER 19 1976**

 _5 days before the Yule Ball_

* * *

They slept for a _whole_ day.

One whole, twenty-four-hour, day.

Lucy couldn't even muster the energy to move from her _very_ comfortable position on James's shoulder. While the rest of his body was sharp angles, his collarbone offered the perfect spot for her neck to lay. An owl had left a letter on his bedside desk, a frivolous pink monstrosity of a paper weighing down random beige parchments left under it.

If she squinted hard enough, she could make out her name written ostentatiously on the ribbon's tag with a heavy violet ink.

Did she really want to move? Lucy considered how she'd possibly move without waking James up. Maybe something about the game and the _activities_ afterwards simply made them too tired to care about waking up with a set schedule. All she knew was, A) her stomach growled ravenously for food, and B) she desperately needed to use the bathroom.

She rose, her mouth dry and hair falling in front of her eyes. Lucy pulled the cover back on James, whose hair didn't stick up so messily in his sleep, for whatever odd reason. Perhaps he was the reason it looked ruffled every day, and not because of his genetics like she'd assumed before. Maybe it fluffed on the daily.

Unable to refrain from reading her addressed envelope, Lucy grabbed it eagerly.

* * *

" _ **Dear Miss Wendell,**_

 _ **It's nice to finally hear James talk a different girl that doesn't call my son a toe-rag every few days. In fact, I've heard nothing but praise for you, Lucy Wendell, the genius who engineered her own broom. Since I'm writing this already, I may have to ask you to smack James for me if he doesn't stop sending every letter featuring the broom (and you, don't worry!) in it—did you really have to pick James?!**_

 _ **Only joking, dear—I heard you needed someone to help you get a dress.**_

 _ **James told me your Mum is away on a trip to Switzerland with Garrick Ollivander over Christmas break, so I deem it prudent that I whisk you away for a "girl's day", if you please, before the Yule Ball. No date of my son's will be dressed in anything less than the finest clothing. I may Owl your mother soon for permission to escort you from Hogwarts.**_

 _ **Charmed,**_

 _ **Dorea Potter"**_

* * *

James's Mom was sending letters to her? It made sense, but Lucy couldn't fathom James taking the time to write letters about her to his _mom_. In a weird way, he was a spoiled boy, but acted much better than he did before Sixth Year. If she tried hard enough, she could remember the sometimes-callous way he treated others.

The boy lying in bed still didn't look like he'd ever been mean in his life, but Lucy knew better. All she hoped for was a bit more maturity—at least, as much as _James Potter_ could get. His friends simmered down, but all that remained was a reality check.

It wasn't to say James didn't know Voldemort could murder everyone he ever knew and loved, but Lucy had already lost her dad far before anyone ever knew the terror Voldemort would unleash upon the Wizarding World. She sometimes thought she should be focusing her efforts elsewhere—and not on her childish endeavor to go to the moon.

Wouldn't people benefit from her experiments in Healing Potions? In possibly ending moon-afflicted curses for people?

A well of guilt rose in her throat. How many things could she have done to help instead of wasting her entire school career in going to the moon? Not a few weeks ago, Voldemort had attacked an _entire_ Muggle village—surprisingly farther north than anyone had heard of him since.

Lucy thought she might cry at the thought of Dad and her stupid, _stupid_ frivolities. Why go to the moon when people were dying left and right? She could call the last few years a waste of time in comparison to life and death. Why do anything? Why not use her skills to stop Voldemort before he got out of hand?

But Lucy couldn't deny the Moon had power as well.

The Ancient Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Mayans, Aztecs—all the Wizarding civilizations of the ages wrote of the _unspeakable_ power of the moon. They knew it had to have something of divinity—why else would they worship it and give it revered names throughout history? It _had_ to be worth her efforts.

She could do it—she could be stronger than Voldemort himself! All she needed was a bit more time. More time and less distractions. Like the one still snoozing away in his bed. While elated about her first boyfriend, Lucy couldn't afford to dwell on her love life, even if the dolt was essential to her broom testing.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having someone that wasn't Pandora and Xeno worrying about her well-being.

* * *

" _ **You are so lucky I didn't send you a Howler, Lucille.**_

 _ **Garrick managed to stop me from wrangling the scarlet letter into the nearest post office, but I still can't believe you didn't tell me you had a**_ _ **boyfriend**_ _ **!**_

 _ **Do I have to have**_ _ **the talk**_ _ **with you when you get home this summer?**_

 _ **You're lucky we're in Switzerland still—I was ready to storm into Hogwarts to have a chat with this 'James Potter' myself! Since Dad can't threaten him, I will. Let him know I'll do creative things he's never seen with a wand in his life before if he makes you cry.**_

 _ **That said, send me a picture of the lucky boy that gets to take Lucy Wendell to the Yule Ball (which I found out through Dorea Potter, by the way, thanks). I hope he's good enough to my standards, which you know are rather high. Dorea told me she'd go pick you up December 20**_ _ **th**_ _ **.**_

 _ **I think a gold dress would look nice—it's a good thing you've got Charlie's black hair and not mine, so you wouldn't look weird. Silver's always a good option too—don't limit yourself. I think Dorea has an eye for that kind of thing anyways, and make sure you thank her for getting you a dress while I'm out of the country.**_

 _ **Love,**_

 _ **Mom"**_

* * *

The owl that dropped the thick envelope on her head was not the canary yellow one Lucy was used to. Meaning Pac-Man (her beautiful fluffy baby) didn't get to go on their trip—which made sense, since he was a bit sensitive to other creatures.

"I don't think I want to meet your mum, Lucy," gulped James, his eyes pouring over the freshly-opened letter in her hands.

"Mom's nice, what do you mean?" asked Lucy, casting a raised brow at the idiot. "Oh, she's exaggerating about the creative wand bit—Mom wouldn't hurt a fly." _Death Eaters weren't flies._

"I don't know, that sounds serious—Mum didn't threaten _you_ in _her_ letter!"

"Mom's just overprotective—I'm an only child, James."

"Me too! Well, not anymore, but still!"

Sirius had been officially adopted by the Potters in Fifth Year, which made quite the scandal for the Blacks in the Wizarding Papers.

"Well…I'm a girl, James. Who knows what goes on in your mind?!"

"My mind?! All I think about is how awesome I am!"

Lucy glared at him, his eyes widening slightly.

"A-and how awesome you are!"

"That's better."

They walked hand in hand around the castle, James showing her the various hiding places and secrets she'd never cared to notice before. The warmth left for a second, making Lucy stop in their place near the Hufflepuff Common Room.

"If you want to see something cool, tickle the pear on that bowl of fruit right there." James had such a cocky look on his face saying that, Lucy couldn't process what he'd said for the second in which she stared at him blankly.

Tickle…the pear. On the portrait.

"You mind repeating that, James, dear?"

"Tickle. The. Pear," he said slower, his hands motioning to the gigantic bowl of fruit painted on the wall.

"Okay?" She did as told, shocked to see a silver handle appear out of nowhere. What kind of spell was that?! It could resolve the conflict between the Heating and Cooling Charms on the _Starstrider!_

"Finally!" James pulled the handle open, revealing a cavernous room filled with little creatures. She remembered seeing them in a book somewhere—ah, House elves!

"I knew you were hungry—these," he paused for dramatic effect. "Are the Hogwarts kitchens, at your service, m'lady."

High-pitched squeaks came from several of the Elves, their ears perking up at the sight of us.

"Mr. Potter! And Miss Wendell! How may we serve you today?!" they chorused, knowing their names regardless of her explaining it.

" _The lady_ and I would like a bite to eat—got anything?" James asked eagerly, his confidence never faltering in the face of Lucy's scrutiny.

"Yessir! Please wait a second!"

The little creatures spread out as one, their movements uniform and as professional as if they were in a five-star restaurant. One, (who Lucy learned was named Whimsy) served them both hot cups of tea. Another brought cookies, cream, and sugar. The others came back, with platters of food upon their arms as if they were feeding a king and queen!

"Thank you, Mimsy, Whimsy, Pipsy, Lopsy, Nimsy, and Missy," James recited each of their names, somehow being able to tell them apart from each other. "They're siblings, Lucy."

"I noticed," she replied, eying their obvious differences from the other working elves around them. "But why did they bring us so much food?"

Her stomach growled loudly, defeating the question in an instant.

"That's why!" laughed James, handing her a roast beef sandwich. "They're our favorite elf family—they always serve a Marauder, no matter the time of day."

Lucy didn't reply—she was too busy thinking about the appearance of the doorknob. While eating, she pulled out her journal. She scribbled something about the Kitchens, and then noticed James's own interest on her activity.

"That's your journal, is it?" James asked, unable to contain the boyish curiosity hiding in his hazel eyes. "Is it filled with your notes?"

"Yes—which are top-secret, by the way." Lucy allowed him to hold it. "If you look in it, there's nothing but scribbles of nonsense."

"I think everyone knows what's in there are the scribbles of a mad-woman."

"James…" warned Lucy, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Only joking! But then how would you show anyone what's in it?" James asked, the familiar creasing on his face now. "Don't you want to share your brilliance after you _do_ go to the moon?"

She did, but not while there were people who could use that power for naught.

"Only for those I think are worthy. What if a Slytherin got a hand of it? A Death Eater? Nothing would stop them from handing it to Voldemort, James." Lucy reasoned, the warm mood dampening at her words. "I can show you if you'd like—not here, though. Nowhere public."

"That's fine—you don't have to show me if you don't want to. I was only curious. It's good that you recognize the potential for danger, because I didn't." He had this _abashed_ look on his face that made Lucy want to give him a hug. He seemed _ashamed_ for not realizing his error.

"Don't feel bad for not thinking about that—it shouldn't have to be that way, regardless. I know I might seem on edge at times, but I can't imagine anyone like Voldemort having access to my theories. My ideas seem a bit far-fetched, but they could be theoretically achieved using magic. And then where would we be?" Lucy rambled, her own stomach sinking at the idea of James being uncomfortable at her lecture. "Don't worry about not considering it James—that's what I'm here for."

"I guess." James's good mood didn't come back until they left the kitchen an hour later. Lucy didn't mean to make him sad—it was just her observations and paranoia injecting themselves into the way she acted with others. And she wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"Are you really still moping?" asked Lucy, shaking his shoulder from where they sat on the Seventh-Floor corridor across Barnabas the Barmy's tapestry. "I told you, it's not your fault."

"It shouldn't have to be you being the careful one." His voice was raw and tired, as if James knew that the threat of danger loomed everywhere now. "I want to be an Auror, but I can't even think about the possibility of knowledge being a threat. Some joke, huh?"

There Lucy stopped from her actions. She picked up his messy-haired head, her own silver eyes reflecting in the distraught hazel.

"James, one mistake does not make you a failure. Do you think I gave up my experiments after the rockets crashed into the Black Lake? Do you think I know all these things because I _never_ failed? Don't be stupid—everyone messes up at something, intentional or not. Don't think you'll never be an Auror because you weren't thinking for a second—about something that doesn't sound so serious anyways. I'm only paranoid, don't worry."

His eyes held a flicker of doubt, but a second later his lips dropped onto hers, a soft kiss that ended as soon as it happened.

"Thank you, Lucy." James whispered, and sank back next to her, the severity of their moment not lost on Lucy. James needed to stop doubting himself at every turn if he ever was going to fight Dark wizards. It was only lucky he thought of it in Hogwarts, and not out in a dangerous battle.

This situation in mind, Lucy thanked her lucky stars that the magical-imbued stones of Hogwarts would never let danger through her sturdy walls. It wasn't reality for any of her classmates yet, not for a whole year. But the selfish person inside Lucy wished no one would never leave the sanctuary of the castle.

* * *

Remus found Lily sitting at a table in the Library, her red hair on fire in the afterglow of the afternoon sun pouring through the enormous windows.

"Hello, Remus," she smiled softly, peering at him from her book about the various uses of Bezoars. "Thinking about Lucy still?"

"Is it _that_ obvious?" Remus asked, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, unable to comprehend how every person _other_ than Lucy could tell he had a massive crush on her.

"I thought maybe after you left me alone at the Gryffindor match, you wanted to think about _Lumes_ for a bit."

" _Lumes?_ "

"It's what people are calling their relationship, James and Lucy's." Lily had a small frown on her face. "Black came up with it, from what I've heard."

"That's their _couple_ _name_ —how's everyone already on board the knowledge ship without me?" asked Remus, a scowl unwittingly forming.

"You need to get out of your own head, Remus. Lucy's not going to wait for you if you don't ever tell her you love her." Wise words from someone he knew was doing the same thing, no matter how hard she tried. Lily Evans cared far more about James Potter than she let on.

"I don't love her." The words tasted like cardboard in his mouth. "I _like_ her."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Lily scoffed, closing her book with a sigh. "Doesn't matter now anyways—she's dating _Potter_."

Oh, there was the jealousy speaking.

"How anyone could go out with that _prat_ is a mystery to me—doesn't Lucy know he's asked me out for the longest time before her?"

Remus was certain Lucy knew—which made the relationship all the crazier to think of. Why in the world would she go out with a boy supposedly obsessed with another girl? It was unthinkable!

"I don't know…" Remus muttered, knowing it all started with that fateful night in the Trophy Room. James just had that natural magnetism, it seemed, enough to sway Lucy into possibly considering him as a potential boyfriend. Which she'd never had before, and Lily had. Maybe he was trying to move on, even if James had known about his crush on her.

All Lucy had needed was a hand-made broom to change James's mind about Lily Evans.

"I just think Lucy made a questionable decision," Lily concluded, pulling her arms under her chin. "Especially with Potter's track record."

Oh, and Remus knew it like the back of his hand. Dorcas Meadowes. Marlene McKinnon. Unknowingly, Lily Evans. Both formers were well-known for being amazing Quidditch players and having a quality of charismatic, but charming personality. Lily was known for her hot temper, flaming red hair to match, and her emerald eyes.

Making Lucy the outlier in James's preferred girl.

She wasn't extroverted—she wasn't a Quidditch player—she wasn't impatient—she wasn't hot-headed—she was a quiet genius and beauty in her own right. Lucy had the eyes. Sleek and silver, like the moon, they glowed inquisitively as if peering into his soul every time she looked at him. She was a polar opposite of the girls James had gone out with in the past.

Why did it have to be her he was going out with when the Yule Ball came around?

Every guy was under some form of pressure to show with a date—going stag just wasn't _cool_. If one couldn't get a date, there _must_ be something about the guy that made him an undesirable option for a girl to accept. Or that he _must_ be a coward for not asking anyone to go with him.

The Yule Ball could've opened a whole possibility for Remus and Lucy to be a couple—were it not for James.

"Good thing you've got some sensibility—going out with me and all," drawled Lily, her sing-song voice breaking through his thoughts. In some ways, Lily was just like James, despite her calling him arrogant. An irony in itself, considering her vehement refusal of anything James did. "I just hope he doesn't do anything to hurt Lucy—I'll kill him myself."

This shocked Remus, whose eyes widened at the girl in front of him. Since when did Lily Evans care so much about their relationship? Remus knew _he_ could handle _Lumes_ , but he didn't know if _Lily_ could cope with them being a couple. Not all hope was lost while Lily Evans was falling for James Potter.

"I'll help you, don't worry."

* * *

 **A/N: I'm sorry some of you want a James/OC, but I think it will be a better James/OC/Remus so far, then Remus/OC. If you really want James/OC, however, I might be willing to write one after this story!**

 **Regardless, thank you for the new (and old!) faves/follows/reviews. See you next chapter-Dorea Potter will definitely make a dramatic appearance ;) Feel free to leave a review if you liked the chapter (which is the longest one, so far)!**


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any associated characters—I only own the OC's._

* * *

 **06\. Christmas Planning**

 **DECEMBER 20 1976**

 _4 days before the Yule Ball_

* * *

Lucy waited in Dumbledore's office a good hour before Dorea Potter swirled in with magnificent robes of rose pink and a puff of emerald smoke.

She carried herself like a proper lady, one Mom always tried to make Lucy be like (and failing miserably). Slight and tall, Dorea stood like a queen before them. She was _definitely_ where James got his arrogance from.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore," Dorea greeted, her voice low and smooth, like the purr of a cat.

"Not Professor anymore, Mrs. Potter," he sighed out, as if being Headmaster worked a weariness upon him he'd not expected.

"Oh yes, forgive me. Old habits die hard." There was a hard glint in her eyes at that. Almost as if she were challenging Dumbledore to say more, something she'd easily counter without hesitation. But what?

The old man simply smiled at her.

"Same as ever, Dorea." Dumbledore sat at his desk. "But I suppose you didn't come here for a chat—I believe Miss Wendell has awaited your arrival for quite some time."

Seeing her cue, Lucy peered up at the formidable woman, eying her as much as she could without looking away. She was older than Mom, yet retained much of her former beauty that she must've had as a youth.

It required a certain amount of confidence to talk to a boyfriend's mother, especially one as unpredictable as Dorea Potter. Deeming it best to be as formal as usual, Lucy smiled weakly at the woman who resembled a significantly older Bellatrix Black.

"Hello, Mrs. Potter."

Her iron curls fell gracefully above her shoulders, nothing like the mess above James Potter's head. The rigidity of her spine insinuated that Dorea _never_ stood in fear of anyone, and if the upturned nose was any indication, _she_ was the one that people often _were_ afraid of.

"My, my…You're quite the catch," she drawled, a smile playing on her rouge lips. "I can see why James would be interested in such an entrancing sight. But where are my manners—Pleased to meet you, Miss Wendell. As you know, I am Dorea Potter, formerly Black."

"Nice to meet you, mam." Lucy wasn't sure if something was wrong with her, as every bit of sanity residing within her recoiled with those words. Too formal! Dorea laughed, placing a well-manicured hand on her shoulder.

"Please, call me Dorea—Mam is for women much older than I."

Lucy stopped her mouth from opening, just about to mention how old she was before realizing it wasn't appropriate. Instead, she smiled sweetly in response.

"Of course, Dorea."

"Now, let us be on our way—the traffic during the holidays is atrocious in Diagon Alley," Dorea sniffed, pulling her to the fireplace. "I assume you know how to use the Floo."

Trying very hard not to roll her eyes, Lucy walked into the green flames.

"Diagon Alley!"

She felt Diagon Alley before she saw it—the bitter English air nipped at her open skin, the thick wool coat she was under cushioning all but the worst of the chill. Dorea Floo'd not long after, leading them both along with the stride of a queen.

"So, Miss Wendell, have you ever attended a Ball? Dreadfully boring, although with the people in Hogwarts, it may not be so for you." Dorea talked like she'd lived a whole life as a Black before marrying Mr. Potter and having James. The experiences must've been quite an opposite if James's current attitudes were reinforced by his parents.

"No, but I have been to a wedding—"

"Ah yes, your uncle and aunt. How's Garrick doing these days? I assume still as eccentric as ever? He must be, to be the best wandmaker in Europe."

"Garrick's good—but yes, he's still a tiny bit insane. Only a little though."

"Almost as insane as your endeavor?" Dorea's chocolate eyes glittered, knowing Lucy would be hard-pressed to deny the factual implication of her statement. Damn James for telling his mother. She tried to play it off.

"Which one? I have many _endeavors,_ Dorea." Lucy plastered an innocent smile on her face. She mustn't be privy to any important information about her Moon theories—not even Mom knew yet.

Dorea eyed her—very carefully, with the precision of a magnifying glass. But she must've found what she was looking for and so she smiled toothily.

"Why, your _broom-making_ business—James hasn't talked about anything _but_ your brilliance in creating such a personalized broom. I daresay he might marry it if you weren't adamant about its return. Although, I must thank you for getting that Evans girl off his mind for a while. The nerve of her behavior towards James is appalling." Dorea gestured at her. "I assume you know which Evans, correct?"

Oh yes, Lucy knew Lily Evans. Everything Lucy wasn't, in a neat little red-haired package.

"Redhead? A bit stuck up? I know her," Lucy uncharacteristically shrugged, waving off her question before any more gossip could be shared. She really wasn't one to talk bad about others, but Lily was kind of overrated, in her opinion.

"I just don't know what he saw in her—he truly is his father's son. Fleamont, during our courting, would recite Shakespearian sonnets and owl me non-stop before Father accepted his marriage proposal just to get the annoying lad away from his presence. Ah, to be young again." Dorea sighed, a wistful smile upon her face. "And you, I suppose you've had a courtship before James?"

Did interaction with a boy count?

"Ah, no—I'm a bit…eccentric around Hogwarts." Lucy couldn't deny the truth—she _was_ the crazy girl in their year. Pandora was the one of the year above, and Sybill Trelawney was the one before.

"It's always the crazy ones…" She wasn't sure if Dorea meant for her to hear that.

Their conversation fizzled with the curls of their breath into the winter air. Lucy, free from evading questions, got a better look at Diagon Alley in the Christmas-time. Brilliantly colored lights hung from nearly every shop, the apothecary holding jars of various colored glasses with what looked like _fairies_ illuminating the storefront. Ornaments lay around as blown up sizes of ones that usually hung on Christmas trees—of which wizards sold in alleys by the bunch. Lucy wondered where Dorea could be taking her.

They'd passed Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions long ago—which made Lucy antsy of what kind of upper-class place Dorea bought _her_ robes from.

"Ah, here we are!" Dorea _giggled_ like a little girl, pulling her along to see the boutique. The baby pink storefront glowed with an diamond gem ornament illuminating the entirety of the room inside, where Lucy could see extravagant dresses with swaths of tulle and silk in every direction.

Already, Lucy wanted the day to end. She tried thinking of whyit was such a big deal for some women to buy clothing anyways. _Aphrodite's Closet_ , as the store was named, looked far too frilly for her tastes.

Lucy _hated_ shopping. Especially for clothes—although, she couldn't deny it was sort of fun when dresses were comfortable _and_ looked good. That was the only silver lining she could surmise from her impending doom. If it took two hours to get _school robes_ , Lucy dreaded how long it would take to find ballroom dresses.

They entered the tiny shop, Dorea billowing past her in a heartbeat to greet the owner of the store amicably.

"Venus! I'm happy to introduce a new customer today and I think you'll be overjoyed to note something…" Dorea pulled her in front of the woman, a forty-something year old with wide green eyes like seawater. "This is Miss Lucille Wendell."

"Your eyes!" she shrieked, already trembling at the prospect of stuffing Lucy into a dress before the minute was up. "Yes, yes, I see what you mean—she's a stunner! Just like the Blacks!"

They both laughed in the way adult women did, as if someone had said something irrevocable and they were trying to hush them up as soon as possible.

"Forgive me, Miss Wendell—I am Venus Selwyn, renowned dress maker. Any witch with a sense of fashion shops here—provided they have the Galleons." She smiled predatorily at Lucy, something she wasn't certain Dorea noticed. "Is there a particular budget you're on today?"

God, what a harpy!

"No, no—this is _my son's date_. I'll spare no expense for the most beautiful garment you can Conjure up," admonished Dorea, placing her warm hands on Lucy's shoulders. "I think James would like Gryffindor colors, but his opinion is naught when it is the lady that dictates what they shall wear. Silver or gold would be appropriate—unless you'd prefer something of a blue. Those eyes of yours give everything an extra _pop_."

Uncomfortable enough with both women examining her like a prize animal of the fair, Lucy offered a color she thought would work.

"Um, I think blue and silver would look nice." And be the colors of Ravenclaw, but who cared about that.

"Perhaps a pearl?"

"I'd say gold, if the shade is right."

"Are you certain? I just got some new shipments from _Paris_ and those French witches knowhow to make pearl dresses."

"Actually, do you have any from _Milan_? I've heard stellar comments about their fashion witches, especially those of silken gold—you see, James and Lucy are Gryffindors."

Their squabbling went back and forth, neither witch considering what Lucy might decide for _her_ dress that _she_ was wearing. Deciding it would be rude to interrupt the woman _paying_ for the dress, she stayed silent.

Lucy favored the gold color Dorea kept mentioning but not the overwhelming tulle that both witches were now enthusing over. She glided over to the racks towards the changing rooms, eager to get away from the noisy pair at the counter.

A variety of dresses caught her eye—the first was a midnight blue beauty with crystalline diamonds flaring from the bust downwards, glittering like tiny stars over a night sky. Oh yes, she could see herself in that one if the skirt didn't poof out in what looked like seven layers of tulle and silk.

The second, a lacy silver that shimmered with every shift of the fabric, also looked appealing. White curls twirled delicately around the hem of the thin skirt, but not high enough to look as if there was frost curling into the dress. However, the neckline plunged far too low for her liking, regrettably forcing her towards the next dress.

The final dress that caught her eye was stuck between a sea green and canary yellow mess. Moving the offending dresses out of the way, Lucy eyed it carefully.

It was something of a light blue, although, a sheer gray could be discerned from the fabric. Intricate swirls of golden leaves lined the bodice all the way to the skirt, flaring with tiny twinkles of the white and greyish-blue gems dotted along each curve of the vines. The most eye-catching, however, was the neckline—golden leaves convoluted to make it gleam with every shift, and the sheerness of the material left the gold to shine along the contrast of the pale blue.

If there was a dress Lucy could admit to being well-worth spending her day shopping, it would be this one. It was made for her! It wasn't heavy, it looked amazing, and the colors were perfect for the winter-themed event.

"Oh, I see you've discovered the Grecian imports—" interrupted Venus, plucking the dress from the rack impishly.

"That dress looks magnificent, Lucy! Here I thought an all-gold would look best—but you seem to have inherited your mother's taste in dresses. Gwendolyn always did look good in blue," Dorea laughed, nodding at Venus. "We shall take this one, Venus. Make sure to be careful of the beading—I daresay Lucy will steal the attention of every lad in Hogwarts."

"Mrs. Potter!" Lucy couldn't help the blush rising all over her neck and ears at that. It wasn't that she wanted everyone to stare at her, but more so that she had a _boyfriend_ who probably wouldn't take kindly to his girlfriend being ogled by every boy in the castle. Dorea laughed again, a rich, throaty sound that made the lines around her eyes lessen.

"Forgive me, perhaps I ought to have said _James_ would be enamored with this dress, darling."

That didn't lessen her red cheeks.

"Now, time for the fitting!"

* * *

"Are you sure Lucy's not here?" asked Remus, his green eyes mirrored in Lily's brighter ones. They were so close, he could smell the mint gum she'd been chewing since they left the library.

"Yes, she left her letter from _Dorea Potter_ on her bedside. I just saw that she'd be gone for most of the day, so that leaves James somewhere in Gryffindor Tower. We just have to find him." Lily scanned their surroundings.

"You went through her stuff!" accused Remus, already feeling guilty about the way they were going behind Lucy's back to get information. But they wouldn't be able to do what they were doing without it.

"No, I _looked_ at her stuff." Lily scoffed, pulling him towards the messy-haired boy lounging with Sirius on one of the plush scarlet couches of the Common Room. "Now, you know what to do."

Lily pushed him towards the pair, putting him right in front of James. He didn't react but eyed him carefully.

"Come to tell me about my ex's again, Moony? I don't think our _mutual friend_ cares about them anyways," James smirked, a cool look in his eye that Remus didn't dare contest.

"Look—" Remus started, but Sirius cut him off.

"No, you look, Remus—James told me what happened that day in Herbology—why'd you do it? You wouldn't let James take Lucy to the Hospital Wing, just like you wouldn't let Hale talk to her before Transfiguration. If I didn't know any better, I'd say…"

"Say what, Sirius?" His tone kept the loftiness he'd practiced when coming close to his secret. Only this secret was one he knew they would _not_ expose now.

"Nothing."

"This chit-chat's been fine and all," James waved his hand between Remus and Sirius, not caring too much about _just who_ Sirius was nearing closer about. "But is there a particular reason you stumbled out of the shadows like some Slytherin? Pads and I were having a delightful conversation about brooms."

"Ah, yeah—I wanted to apologize," said Remus lamely. His nerve seemed to have left him at the mention of _why_ Remus was so defensive of Lucy. "I'm sorry for what happened with Lucy at the Greenhouses, James."

Swallowing his pride was worse than when his friends had revealed they knew about his lycanthropy. He could feel his very body rejecting the words that'd left his mouth. But there wasn't any other way to do it, no other way to get back in James's good graces. And James's good graces meant Lucy's good graces, especially since he'd made an ass out of himself in front of her.

Remus could only hope James wouldn't hold a grudge against him, but he already knew he was fighting a losing battle at the rise of James's eyebrow.

"Well mate, I would accept that apology if it were meant for me. It's not me you have to say sorry to, Moony. I didn't care about you mentioning my old girlfriends, I just thought it was fucked up to mention them while Lucy was dripping blood all over the place—did you not think she needed to get to the Hospital Wing as soon as possible?!" James was on his feet now, emblazoned by his sense of righteousness.

Remus wasn't sure if he'd ever felt so bad in his life—his knees might've given out if he were a weaker man.

"I had to carry her the last few corridors, and her blood—her blood was all over my hands, Remus. D'you really think I cared about you outside of the Greenhouses?! No! I cared more about the fact that her arm was sliced up and that she was getting paler by the second! I don't know how you could be that selfish, Remus. See how I didn't say anything when you and Evans were talking out there like a couple of conspirators? That's because I was the better person."

James…was right. So undeniably correct, Remus had nothing to say to that. Nothing to deny, nothing to refuse. So, he nodded, letting James win even more than he already had.

"You're right, James. But I still don't like leaving my battles when I know I've lost—so I won't say I'm not sorry to you when I am, to both of you."

James seemed to consider Remus, his hazel eyes deep in thought. He wasn't sure what he'd do if one of his closest friends didn't take him back.

"How could I refuse your heartfelt apology, Moony? You're the real reason why any of us idiots became _the Marauders_." James smiled at him, but then added a sternness to his features that made it more of a grimace. "You're still apologizing to Lucy, so good luck."

"I'll need it."

* * *

A gust of warm air hit Lucy like a welcomed cushion after a trying day. Which it was. Dorea Potter didn't take things half-heartedly, a fact Lucy was not amiss to. In a way, she reminded her of James. He never did anything partly, and if he was doing something, he gave it his all. A dopey smile flit across her face.

"Lucy?" A voice called from a few steps ahead, pulling out of her daze. It was Remus? What more could he say to her?

"Remus? Sorry, I'd better go see James—" Lucy continued past him, missing the dispirited way Remus ran his hands into his hair.

"No." At this, she turned, a vicious snarl curving itself onto her face. If his plan was to get her pissed off, Remus was doing an amazingly good job of it.

"No?" Lucy couldn't help the way her breath turned ragged, as if she'd snap right then and there. And for all she knew, she would. Lucy didn't put up with being prodded and poked all day to deal with a boy who thought he knew better than her, ex-friend or not. "Move out of my way or I'll _blast you_ out of my way, Remus. Don't test me."

He accepted her threat with raised hands, his eyes warily scanning her like a predator. Lucy wouldn't _kill_ him. Maybe only hurt him a little.

"I have to say something before you do that, Luce—promise you'll like it." Remus attempted a smile, one that didn't meet the dead look in his eye. _Something had removed the spark._

"Hurry up then, I've got news for James." Remus winced, but then looked as if he'd rather jump into a vat of Fiendfyre than say what he kept putting off.

"I-I'm sorry for getting involved in your decisions—you're right, Lucy. It's not my duty to say what's good or bad for you, so I'm sorry for thinking I knew better than you." Remus stared down at his feet, his worn brown shoes scuffed and obviously well-loved.

Lucy wasn't expecting him to apologize—the wind in her sails deflated, all the scorching rage leaving with a draft of calmness that settled in its place.

"Okay." And what could she say apart from that? Remus didn't beg for her friendship back, only that she forgive him of his transgression. Wow, that made her sound arrogant ( _which she totally wasn't!_ )

"Okay? That's it?" Remus spoke the words she'd only just thought of, only his seemed to escape without meaning to.

"Well, what do _you_ want me to do, Remus?"

* * *

"Well, what do _you_ want me to do, Remus?" There was the question, the one he wished he could command without a second thought. Kiss him, break up with James, be _his_ girlfriend. All of these options were plausible things he'd want Lucy to do.

He scrambled for words after the daydream of her kisses was over.

"I-I don't know." Pathetic, pathetic, _why would he say that—_

"Then there's nothing more to say, is there, Remus?" Lucy smiled softly at him, her pink lips damn near _taunting_ his mistake in not admitting more.

"I suppose not." _Fucking coward_.

"Catch you around, Remus," Lucy sauntered off, probably on her way to see James after being gone all day. God, when did he turn into such a whipped dog? If she knew how weak he was for her, he'd never hear the end of it.

Yet, as he stared as her retreating form, he couldn't help but accept defeat and count his losses. Lucy was already the biggest one he could think of, pride be damned, and Remus wasn't sure Lily's plan would happen any time soon.

* * *

 **DECEMBER 21 1976**

 _3 days before the Yule Ball_

* * *

"Have any of you seen my book?" asked Lucy, rummaging frantically into her trunk. Mary shook her head while the other person in the room just ignored her usual lunacy. "Where could it be…?!"

"Why's this book so important—just borrow a separate copy from the teacher. It's what I did when I lost my Potions book," drawled Alice finally, looking at Lucy as if _she_ were the dumb one that'd grown a second head. "I'm sure all the teachers have a spare."

"No, no, no…" Lucy jolted up, her hair bouncing at the movement. These monkeys were _useless_ in helping her. The next best thing would have to be the boys—James probably knew where she left it before going to meet Dorea yesterday morning. " _They don't_."

She flew down the stone steps of the Girl's Dormitory with a manic glint in her eye. Whoever stood between her and Dad's journal would be paying dearly—no one touched Lucy Wendell's stuff! So lost in her rapid mental backtracking, she bumped into the man of the hour.

" _JAMES_!" Lucy couldn't help the desperate tone that tinged every syllable escaping her lips. "Thank God I've found you!"

"When girls say that, they're usually much happi—" James started, a wicked smile growing until the quip died at the tears welling in her eyes. "—wait, did something happen? Who did it?"

"I-don't-know!" stressed Lucy, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. "I can't find my _book_ , James."

"The _book?_ The _book-book?_ "

" _ **Yes**_ , the _book-book!_ I left it in my t-trunk, or so I thought, and n-now it's not t-there!" Her words wobbled with the eminent breakdown Lucy felt coming since she realized it was not in her dorm room. Don't cry, don't cry…It was only Dad's last gift for her…before he died…and now she went and _**l o s t**_ it. What a good daughter she was!

"Aw, don't cry Lucy…please?" James wrapped her in his arms, the soothing scent of pine flooding her senses. "We'll find it, don't worry." His words rumbled in his chest, letting Lucy stop in her trembling for a minute. "When was the last time you had it?"

"The morning I went with Dorea to Diagon Alley—I didn't want to take it with me since it was so cold, and I didn't want to lose it, and it happened anyways, and—" James pulled her head up from his chest, her blubbering cut short by the intensity of hazel behind his glass frames.

"We'll find it." The confidence in his voice felt good against the overwhelming anxiety bubbling up like a festering wound. It was going to be fine, just fine.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"Aw, look at the lovers, Wormy—want to reenact it?" Sirius's voice pulled hiccups from her, the picture of Peter with his head on Sirius's chest too imaginable in her head.

"That's gay, Pads."

Unable to stop the giggles bursting, she pulled away from James's hug to watch the pair banter.

"Everyone needs a little bit of gay in their life, Peter," waved away Sirius, throwing one arm around a disgruntled Peter.

"Are you saying you're—"

A bark of laughter erupted from the gray-eyed boy, who couldn't stop himself from retorting snappily:

"Ah yes, considering I've slept with more girls than you can count on your fingers, I've just realized I am meant to be gay, of course! My existential crisis has been resolved!"\

Peter flushed, pushing Sirius's arm away from him.

"Damn you, Padfoot."

"Remind me why again, I'm friends with you guys?" James asked, a sly grin on his face.

Remus came down the stairs from the Boy's Dormitory, his eyes lingering briefly on her and James's proximity.

"Because you'd be lost without us," answered Remus, a smile cracking on his face. So, he _had_ made up with James.

"You're absolutely right, Moony—by the way, have any of you seen Lucy's book lately?" Both scanned their audience. "Y'know, little black leather one with as many Charms on it as a vault in Gringotts?"

Lucy held her breath, eyeing each Marauder as carefully as she would watch a Moon Calf during mating season. The majestic dances were as entrancing as they were dangerous.

"The diary Lucy hexed me for touching?" Sirius rubbed his arm, remembering the incident with a savage grimace. "Haven't seen it since Fifth Year."

"I only hexed you because you tried taking the _journal_ to see what I was writing in it for," muttered Lucy, throwing herself into a nearby loveseat. James plucked himself next to her, throwing his arm around her like how Sirius did to Peter. "No hard feelings, though, right?"

"Nah, I got over it."

"Well, I don't even know what you're talking about," Peter yawned, regardless of the fact that it was the middle of the day. "I've never seen that book before."

"I thought you had it when you came back from Diagon Alley." Remus frowned, a crease forming between his eyes.

"I left it in my Dorm," Lucy explained briefly, seeing a spark of something she couldn't tell in demeanor. What the hell? Did Remus have something to do with whoever took it? Unless he…took…it…

But he had greeted her when she came back, so it couldn't have—no, that was stupid. Remus wouldn't do that to her.

"I haven't seen it, Lucy, sorry."

She sighed, sinking further into her anxious thoughts of who could be the culprit. Maybe she was just being careless. It wouldn't be the first time she'd misplaced it—but it usually happened at home, not at Hogwarts.

"I'm not liking this depressing mood," James broke the silence, nudging Lucy pointedly. "Why don't we all go do something—I'm super bored!"

"Like what?" asked Lucy dejectedly, still somber over her loss. It felt like Dad had died all over again, only this time, she didn't know who had done it.

"Er—I haven't come up with that yet."

"I've been thinking about a prank lately," Sirius muttered thoughtfully, their circle of friends leaning closer to hear.

"We're listening." A mischievous grin mirrored every face but Remus's.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to do this so close to the Ball—McGonagall will have our heads," reasoned Remus, leaning in nevertheless to hear the possible rule-breaking.

"We're going to need fireworks, a sleigh, and dear little Lucy here."

"Me?" she asked, her brows raising in shock. She'd seen their pranks before, hilarious things happening to the people the Marauders didn't like or humiliating stunts that left people unable to leave the Hospital Wing until Pomfrey could fix them. "I'm not hurting anyone, if that's what you need me to do."

"Of course not—you're a goddess at Charms—we need you to maintain bubbles the size of elves—unless you can conjure up a bunch of elf clones, that'd work better…" Sirius trailed off, seeing the realization light up in James's eyes.

"You madman—we could never do that one, I couldn't make the Charms last long enough to catch anyone's attention!" Disbelief colored every Marauder's face, but Lucy wasn't sure _what_ they were talking about.

"You've done this before?" she nudged James, who stared at her like she'd fallen from heaven itself.

"No, we tried to—but with _you_ we can, I'm sure of it!" He laughed like a child, one who'd gotten everything he'd wanted for Christmas. "All you need to do is make a distraction—the bubbles _have_ to stay long enough to distract McGonagall and the other teachers to lure everyone out and give us enough time to prep the sleigh—that will be holding _Santa_."

A laugh burst from Peter as James stressed the final word. Who was Santa going to be?

"Santa?"

"Yes, child?" Sirius could hardly restrain his composure—Lucy sure as heck didn't, and she had to lean on James to stop from falling over.

"Y-you're going to ride the sleigh?" Lucy asked redundantly, unable to keep the picture of his luscious locks flowing as he flew around Hogwarts out of her head.

"Of course!"

"Alright, I'm in!" Everyone cheered, but none so much as James, who clapped her shoulders as if she were a Marauder herself.

"We'll need to do this Christmas Day—during Lunch. There's no way they'd cancel the Ball on Christmas." Remus reminded them, his own grin unable to fall in his seriousness.

"Then we all know what we need to do! Lucy, you're on Charm duty—James can _help_ you since he had to do them last time. Remus, you're with Peter—you have to get the fireworks. I'll be getting the sleigh done—and meet here tomorrow morning for finishing touches, okay?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

Remus ditched Peter as soon as they got the fireworks from some Zonko's in Hogsmeade. He'd gotten them top of the line with James's money, but Remus wasn't thinking of the fireworks, no, he was thinking of Lucy's book.

He wasn't sure if he were mad or guilty that he didn't tell Lucy that he knew who'd had it. The tear-streaked marks on her face were visible to anyone with working eyeballs—and so was the puffiness. The last thing she needed before the trial of her Broom was complete was the theft of her book, something Remus had never seen her without.

There'd be no other way for them to get the letter from Dorea so Remus could make his apologies, and Lucy had probably stuck it in there after receiving it. But why would she take the entire book and not the letter?

The only person who could have taken Lucy's book was _**Lily**_ _._

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry for not updating for a while, got busy with school. May is hell for me, but at least AP exams are over. All I need are some finals, and graduation! I'll also be in Germany for a few weeks, so you might get some weird chapter update times. I can't wait to write the Christmas scene._

 _As always, feel free to review or favorite, thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any associated characters.**_

* * *

 **07\. A Dance to Remember**

 **DECEMBER 22 1976**

 _2 days before the Yule Ball_

* * *

Lily shouldn't have taken Lucy's book.

It lay only a few feet away from the wavy-haired girl, who was practically thrown across her bed as if she'd been up all day and night planning something. But what, Lily wasn't sure. She nudged the spine of the book again, the leather-bound coolness under the pillow reminding her of the transgression against someone who'd never _really_ done anything to Lily.

Was it petty? To withhold the very object that her dormmate never let out of her sight?

She and Remus had needed the letter only, but the peculiarity of the journal dawned such an interest that she couldn't refrain from taking it. Lily _needed_ to know what was inside. It wasn't anything against Lucy, at least, that's what she tried telling herself—were it not for the girl Charming her bedcurtains silent, Lily would hear the evidence of her puffy eyes and weak voice first hand.

And Lily wasn't certain if _that_ was the reason why she felt like jumping out of Gryffindor Tower.

James Potter, the boy Lily thought would never stop hounding after her had finally stopped. But she never thought she'd miss the constant noise that always seemed to escape James Potter's mouth, no matter how annoying she thought it had been. All of his attention was on Lucy Wendell now, the unexpecting wrench that had thrown Lily into her frenzy all of a sudden.

Was it cruel to lord the journal over her for the misfortune of being Potter's girlfriend?

Lily was lucky Remus hadn't found her the day before—he'd been on a warpath trying to locate her, and she'd had to rely on her old haunts from when she'd hung out with Severus in Fourth Year, which brought back even more memories that she wanted to forget. Lily was lucky Remus didn't _tell Lucy_ she'd taken it—certainly, after Lucy had informed them, she'd thought it was all over.

Their little huddle by the fireplace the other day had wracked such nerves upon her that she'd not bothered to leave her dorm out of pure worry of being caught.

It just _wasn't_ like Lily to do it, not like her to feel such ambivalence for another—the feeling made her feel as if she were a villain from a Disney movie, as sly as a Slytherin. Lucy was sweet to everyone who was back to her. She never said a cruel word to anyone who didn't deserve it, and she never cared much for the business of those who minded their own.

Who could have predicted the whirlwind romance between her and James would evoke the stirrings of, dare she say it, _jealousy_ within her?

Lily _missed_ having the constant banter with James, of his supposedly _undying_ love for her, of his ardent adoration of Lily Evans that everyone knew was absolute and infinite—no girl could come between him and Evans, they said.

But Lucy Wendell wasn't just any girl.

She was a genius. A _femme fatale_ —no one could ever see her killer beauty behind the obsession that'd surely devastate any sane man. But she was an American witch who knew what she wanted, how to do it, and how to fix it. Lily hadn't considered her a threat to _her_ James. Not to the boy who'd waited all night by the staircase to give her his handmade Valentine's card each year since Third Year.

To think that she wouldn't receive one in 1977 sent unpleasant bile rising in her throat.

If Lily could hear what she was thinking only a month ago, she would've scoffed, laughed in her pathetic face at the audacity of her thoughts. Lily Evans _actually_ considering James as something _other_ than a pain in her rear? It wasn't possible!

Her face flushed in the darkness of the room.

Some diligent rule-keeper she was, stealing other's property right under their noses during a one-time occurrence that had the owner off-campus for the slightest amount of time. Lily was no better than a common thief! Lucy would never forgive her for taking it and delivering it to her bedside would be just as bad as writing ' _Lily Evans stole this!'_ in fluorescent marker on the cover. It would never work because her partner that she'd dragged in crime knew she'd done it.

Lily tried to justify it, justify Lucy's pain because _she'd made Lily hurt, so why not repay the favor?_ No-no-n-o—she shook her head, ridding herself of the callous thought that rose like an embittered hag. But the terrible part was, Lily knew what had hurt the most.

The infamous _kiss_ during the Quidditch Final.

Lily didn't expect to see James move on so quick, and with such a quiet girl that it had felt as if he'd ripped her heart into two pieces when their lips connected in front of everyone. If Remus had run to try to forget, Lily completely shut down, her body functioning on autopilot for the rest of the night, where her last sight of the _couple_ had been during the celebration party.

Did she not matter as much to James anymore?

Lily knew it was stupid to assume he would keep pining, stupid to keep him dangling on her hook like a fish out of water. But how was she to know he'd jump back in the water to find other fishes? Had all the years of chasing come to an end because of _some upstart_? It hurt more to be certain that James had disregarded his so-called affection for her over Lucy, no matter how great she was.

She was a selfish girl. Lily was used to getting her way. Used to everything just going right for her. In lessons, she was perfect, in public she was perfect, and at home she was perfect. Was she not perfect enough for James anymore?! Was Lucy what he considered perfect? Lily wasn't even perfect enough for Remus, who'd fallen under Lucy's spell all too willingly.

But how had she done it? With the journal?

No matter what she tried, the damned thing never opened—Lucy had Charmed it with spells Lily had never even heard of, the closest she'd gotten to skimming the surface was remembering she'd read about in Ancient Runes when learning about Roman era-style defensive spells. The second one had been nowhere close to anything like the first one.

Somehow after admitting defeat, Lily knew it wasn't the journal.

Lucy Wendell never _ever_ had physical contact with a boy before James Potter. Something just had to be in the water over that girl, maybe she'd even Charmed it with some kind of romance spell—which was ridiculous, but Lily couldn't be sure with her. A wildcard, Dad would probably say to lessen the chaos in her well-organized brain.

Her half-thought of plan somehow fell into place that day in the Library with Remus. The plan to break them up. But she hadn't told him of her final step, no—that'd break his fragile resolve instantly, especially when it'd taken so much convincing to get him to really listen to her. She'd have to do it herself, with or without Remus.

* * *

 **DECEMBER 23 1976**

 _1 day before the Yule Ball_

* * *

James wasn't sure how he'd lived for so long without Lucy Wendell. She just _got_ him. She was like a _sensitive_ Sirius Black in a dainty little black-haired package. Lucy understood every thought he could think of, knew more than he did when it was time to be creative. James never thought anyone could do the things she did with a wand, for surely, not even Dumbledore could match her flair for Charms.

The little elves (peculiar little ones with human-like faces that Lucy had mentioned were commonly referred to as Santa's Little Helpers for Muggles) responded to her every command, a simple variation of the Charmed birds one could command at will. She'd changed her pronunciation, something James didn't think could really affect a spell since the intent was there, but _it did somehow because Lucy did it_.

"Are you ready?" she asked, her silver eyes glittering with excitement. James was lucky he'd finally broken the somber mood that'd overtaken her the past two days. He knew she was still missing the book, but she managed to get through better, he thought, with the wisecrack jokes he never seemed to run out of.

"Darling, I was _born_ ready. Thank goodness we've pushed up the date—I don't think I could wait till Christmas to do this prank," he smirked, tugging at the stray wave that'd fallen into her face. "Do you think everyone else is done? I haven't really been paying that much attention to them."

"I think they are—and that hasn't been happening because you've been with me practically every second since I've lost my book."

"Don't act like you don't like me being with you every second of the day."

"I used to have things to do every day, you know."

"Wish you could do _me_ every day." James didn't even try hiding the enormous smirk while saying that. Lucy gasped, her cheeks flaming adorably in the way they did when she got flustered.

"Shut up, James!" She smacked his shoulder, forcing a laugh out of him in surprise. James didn't know why, but all he felt like doing was teasing her. Just like he did with Evans, except Lucy wasn't one to banter back unless he'd really put his foot in his mouth, which happened far too often over the past few days. "That was so bad!"

"I don't think it'd be bad—for either of us, if you get what I'm saying," chuckled James, nudging her all-too-obviously.

"A deaf nun would get what you're saying, James. Now c'mon, stop messing around, let's round up these guys for tomorrow!"

"I wonder if they'll mind looking like my favorite Slytherin pals."

* * *

 **DECEMBER 24 1976**

 _12 hours before the Yule Ball_

* * *

Lucy thought the stress of performing might be the most anxiety-inducing one she'd ever done. The ramifications of doing so would be different per Marauder—James would absolutely be impressed with her, Remus would be proud, Sirius would never doubt her, and Peter…well, Peter would probably be happy regardless.

Her little army of elves marched as one unit, resembling a ludicrous march of waddling penguins under her command, just waiting for the flick of her wand to send them into the Great Hall. Their plan was supposed to happen in ten minutes—when everyone would be feasting on lunch. A signal would start the chaos, but Lucy'd forgotten to ask James just _what_ it would be.

"You'll see it, don't worry!" he'd said, his familiar grin wide on his face. "It'll _ghost_ right by you!"

How vague could he be?!

And then, she knew the idiot had been entirely too _literal_. A brilliant stag glittered down the hallway, a silver glow emitting particles with every gallop of its graceful legs as it raced towards her with a stride only James _freaking_ Potter could conjure up. He'd cast the Patronus Charm.

Before she could admire James's wandwork, Lucy yelled at her own minions awaiting her signal to commence their mayhem.

"March!" A rumble came from the petite stomps of each elf, their command unfailingly sending them into the magnificent Hall.

Students gasped, but before it could get too out of hand, Lucy Disillusioned herself out of the way. She sent hundreds of the elves towards each table, their little legs scampering up the benches and onto the tables, some messing with the Lunch spread, and others chanting, "WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS!" with the ferocity of a lion's roar.

She faintly (and by faintly, she meant distinctly) noticed a screech from the Gryffindor table that sounded much like one of the elves had found their way onto John Hale, but that was none of her business, she supposed, and continued spelling more and more of the creatures towards the Slytherin table. They seemed to hate the little buggers the most.

From her vantage point, Lucy surmised it would keep a long enough distraction for the boys, but when the teachers began rising from their seats, she began to get creative.

Each elf who had the misfortune of looking like Lucius Malfoy began floating towards the very subject of their appearance, but not without something else. Malfoy couldn't understand why the elves went for him—only that they lacked fine motor skills, and so he began blasting them away from him and his girlfriend, Narcissa Black.

Lucy could hear his enraged roar over the chaos bridling within the hall.

"Whoever is responsible for these _demons_ shall be punished by my—" She decided that was enough from him and changed the nature of the previously-harmless elves.

"Lucius! Lucius! Stop blasting them, you imbecile!" cried Severus Snape amidst the screams, too fighting off the swarm that came from Lucius's targets. They duplicated with every spell shot from the manic boy, much to the amusement of the Gryffindors. But when the singing swelled, Lucy knew it was time for the grand finale.

"SANTA'S COMING, SANTA'S COMING!" The elves sang, each raising their tiny arms towards the heavens. Their high-pitched voices drowned out the calls from the Teacher's Table, but no one could miss the sound of the clacking of hooves on cobblestone coming from the main doors.

An enormous stag burst into the Great Hall, its antlers decked in bells and holly with a certain confidence Lucy'd never seen in any animal in her life. It pulled the sleigh, ostentatiously painted firetruck red and carrying one, white-haired Sirius Black dressed as Santa Claus. Remus and Peter were dressed like some of her elves behind him, waiting to toss the presents they'd all agreed to give to every student.

"My children!" bellowed Sirius, somehow keeping a straight face through the chaos. "I've come to bestow upon you all some gifts early this year, since a little reindeer told me you've got _plans_ while I'm supposed to deliver your gifts! That won't do! So now, boys and girls, _have you been_ _ **naughty**_ _or_ _ **nice**_ _?_ "

He pulled the reins of the stag, which pranced around like the star of the show between the space of the tables. Lucy decided the show would look much better _flying_ , so for a moment, she cast a minor Levitation Charm on the exuberant deer. And what the hell, why not throw in some sparkles too?

The stag nearly stumbled over its feet, but recognizing it was not about to faceplant into the students with Lucy leading it around, it began shaking its bell-covered antlers to make sure it would remain noticed as the rest of the boys began their jobs.

The spell on each box James and Lucy had come up with themselves-a variation of Transfiguration and Charmwork to ensure each student got _something_ for Christmas that wasn't out of the ordinary, like chocolates. However, if they were _naughty_ students (a criteria decided by the boys and not her, which made it certainly biased) they'd get a lump of coal. Lucy wasn't sure if any Slytherin would be getting any chocolates from them.

"We hope you have a MERRY CHRISTMAS!" trilled Sirius, and then Lucy set them back on their track out of the Hall, much to the amazement and bewilderment of the Hogwarts students and staff.

"Excellent!" cried James, hugging Lucy with such strength, she reconsidered how much she valued breathing over hugs. "The flying bit was amazing, I don't know why we didn't think of it ourselves!"

"I think you lack a feminine perspective—though, I didn't see you on the sleigh," Lucy raised a brow, wondering what he could have been doing during the show.

"I was giving Remus and Peter the presents—Minnie promised my head to Mum if she caught me doing one more prank," he grimaced, messing his hair up.

"Dorea would probably accept it, seeming as you're messing your hair hours before the Ball!" scolded Lucy, flattening the parts that stuck straight up into the air.

James pushed her hands down, smiling at her efforts.

" _Darling_ , I've tried every trick in the book to get these magnificent locks to fall flat. You can't do it if I can't."

"Is that a challenge?!"

* * *

 _1 hour before the Yule Ball_

* * *

Why did Lucy _ever_ think that going to a ball would be easy?! The dress, of course, fit perfectly—but that wasn't the issue, no, it was the outrageous demands of the girls she lived in her dorm with.

"You _must_ wear some makeup, Lucy—what will James think if you look like you normally do?!" shrieked Alice, acting as if it were some heinous crime to want to be recognizable.

"Uh, he probably won't notice—"

"No! You have to _at least_ put some of this silver eye-shadow my aunt got from Paris—It would look so nice with your dress!" begged Marlene, shoving the tiny container of sparkling dust right under her nose.

Lucy managed to evade the other girls by jumping on her bed, ("Lucille, your hair!") and she began negotiating.

"If I let you do whatever you want to my face, will you promise to stop hounding me over all this girly crap?" Lucy waved her arm at the offending objects, of which included a flat iron and too many brushes to keep count of.

"Yes," they chorused, seizing their chance to poke, prod, and ravage her delicate skin with God knows what beauty products.

Before the well-manicured claws of Mary McDonald reached her, Lucy wondered if she really did receive the better side of the transaction.

* * *

Remus didn't like dressing up.

It was irrelevant, it was pointless, and it just made him feel downright uncomfortable. He preferred the well-worn creases of his leather shoes, and the casual clothing he wore on the daily, like the Hogwarts uniform or some other comfortable (if a bit shabby) clothes. Not the stiff, formal suits that balls dictated to wear.

He didn't even own the suit he was wearing. It was Sirius's, one of the many the Pureblooded boy had required to use for his previous occasions, and damned if _any_ Black would wear the same suit twice to a formal event.

That saying…Remus liked seeing _other people_ dressed up. He knew he didn't belong within their circles, the people who wore clothes that cost more than his entire wardrobe on a daily basis, but he knew it made them look _good._

 **Exhibit A**. Sirius Black. That boy was _born_ to wear suits, and the deep gray one he was sporting already drew the attention of many of the girls in the Gryffindor Common Room. Even their dates looked like they were wearing rags when next to the show stopper, but Remus didn't care how he looked with his friends. He didn't care about any of the girls dying to be the one on Sirius Black's arm, and he didn't care about the red-head digging her nails into his arm as _she_ came down.

Lucy walked down the staircase as gracefully as one can with heels, but he knew any sort of mental functioning stopped the second her heavy lashes fell upon him. The dress she wore left everything to the imagination, while being modest enough for the winter-themed event they'd all be going to together. Her hair, forever stuck in a messy ponytail, came down for the Ball, straight and glossy. Were it not for his best friend slicking his hair back in front of him to grab her hand, Remus would fall over himself to have the pleasure of doing so.

"You clean up nicely, Lucy," James grinned, looking as if even he couldn't believe it were Lucille Wendell holding his hand.

"Y-yeah, you look amazing." Remus couldn't help himself from stuttering out, but the grateful smile she sent his way was worth the nails in his arm from Lily Evans, who James had hardly looked at since Lucy came down.

"Back at you, James! And you too, Remus. Sorry I took so long—the girls attacked me after Lily came down," rambled Lucy, her adorable laugh escaping her rouge lips. If he didn't have perfect vision, Remus might think she were a life-size porcelain doll with the makeup she had on.

"Marlene can be very demanding when she wants to," agreed Lily, her own smile strained as Lucy fell into James's side comfortably. Seeing as they had nothing to say to that, she continued: "I wonder how the Great Hall will look for the Ball—Dumbledore never does anything halfway."

"If the old man doesn't animate some snowmen, I'll be disappointed," joked James, nudging Lucy. "Unless Lucy-pie can do him better and make them for us."

 _Lucy-pie, just kill Remus now._

"Lucy-pie? Are you Jamesie now?" countered Lucy, huffing in a way that let them all know James was putting on another show.

"Only if you want me to be, baby." James winked at her, before Sirius (thankfully) got him to a suitable level.

"Can you save it for the dance? I think I want to barf after drinking the spiked punch, not before, thanks you two," Sirius asked pointedly, pulling along his own date in front of him.

"Why can't you be that cute, Sirius?" asked Kelly Barton, the Seventh Year from Hufflepuff that Sirius was entertaining for the night. "They're so adorable together!"

"It's not cute, it's revolting," remarked Lily, scoffing at the blonde. "Luckily, Remus doesn't do cringey things like that."

"I like the cringey things James does," commented Lucy, her full attention now on Lily, who looked as if she wanted nothing more than to pry Lucy's hand from James's arm. "They're endearing."

Perhaps that wasn't the adjective to use around Sirius and James—the pair cracked up, the inside joke only the Marauders knew unknowingly used by Lucy. Remus smothered the groan that longed to escape him as they grinned at each other simultaneously.

"En- _deer-ing_ you say?" questioned James petulantly.

"I think she means _hart-_ ening."

"No, it's _stag_ geringly adorable." James threw an arm across Lucy's bare back. "Don't you think so, sweetie?"

"Whatever you say, weirdo." Remus had to smile at that.

"See, she agrees!"

"That's not me agreeing," laughed Lucy, pushing James off her back. "Although, if you two get anymore stupid, I'll have to say you're both barking mad."

"Barking, you say?"

"Shut up you two, we're about to enter the Great Hall!" Remus let out a breath of air that he didn't know he was holding, and Lily gave him a side-ways glance that showed her own discomfort.

It certainly didn't help him that Lucy stood out like a goddess among mortals from the instant they walked in. Remus couldn't let that deter him from getting a dance in with her but judging by the looks of the guys ogling her around the Hall, it wouldn't be easy.

The Great Hall was only recognizable by its walls—the enchanted ceiling might've been familiar if the candles that never extinguished were present—Dumbledore had allowed a minor snowfall to lace the floor in an elegant flurry of snowflakes. A brilliant crystal ball lit up the cavernous room faintly, as if winter had barely sprung into their northern region, and the students were only just noticing its beauty. Strangely enough, there was no chill to the snow falling—only a minor breeze that let them all breathe comfortably in the crowded room.

"Oh, wow…" trailed off Lucy, her silver eyes not once leaving the ethereal glow of the Hall. "You still want those snowmen, James?"

"N-not yet." Even James couldn't hide his surprise at seeing the Great Hall so much more… _wintery_ than usual.

The pair took their awe in stride—Lucy almost in a trance as she passed the various decorations that littered the enormous frosted windows, and James unable to keep his eyes off his date's wonder. Remus felt his confidence falter as they kept up their etiquette, and he paused by the drinks to ask Lily a question.

"How are we going to do this?" Remus nearly cried, his voice tightening in exasperation. James and Lucy laughed in the distance and his heart dropped into his stomach at the thought of separating the two. Why was he doing this again?

"Just wait for the slow dances," breathed Lily, her own bright eyes cast over his shoulder, where the pair talked animatedly. "I'll do it first, and while James is dancing with me, it's your turn."

"I don't feel comfortable doing this anymore, Lily." He couldn't lie to himself, or Lily anymore. It wasn't nerves, it wasn't any cowardly act that didn't let him split the two—it was the idea of betraying his closest friend, regardless of who his girlfriend was. "They don't deserve this—any of it. We're cold-hearted if we do this, and I don't think it's worth it to betray James like this after I just got him back."

Lily stared at him, long and hard. Remus knew that he'd gotten some of it through to her, but whether or not she'd admit it, he didn't know. And then those eyes of hers hardened into emeralds before him, and he knew it was a lost cause.

"If you're not helping me, I'll do it myself. Lucy will only get hurt if James keeps this up—and here I thought you cared about her, Remus." With a turn of her heel, Lily stomped off, leaving him in all sorts of disarray.

No…no…James wasn't the type to hurt anyone on purpose, and especially not someone he knew was friendly to all. Remus thought about the incident the year before, and of how he nearly killed Severus Snape were it not for James Potter, and he felt his spirit fall into further levels of disgust at his actions. _How dare he, Remus Lupin, betray the boy who gave more than he deserved?_

Remus steeled himself, finally glancing up from his scuffed black shoes to look for Lily. How arrogant could she be, to immediately assume James would hurt Lucy because of her? They'd barely been a couple, and judging by the looks of things, he knew they _could_ potentially be so much more.

The thought sent a dagger to his heart, but he knew it was true. James was all-or-nothing, and Lucy, for all Remus knew about her, would not be one to callously break his heart. The two were too stubborn to think of another while together. Lily's plan could only make her a villain to their love story, as painful as it was to Remus.

A flash of red hair moved his feet instantly, towards where the teachers kept a careful eye on wandering hands or potential arguments. A smart move from Lily, but Remus be damned if he didn't stop her from tearing a hole into Lucy's relationship. Her green dress fluttered between the many dresses of other girls, and he nearly tumbled into a _very excited_ Ravenclaw couple in between the beats of the Muggle music.

The song ended abruptly, however, and Remus stopped in his tracks as Lily caught her targets in between their dance before he alerted them. He watched James and Lucy part, the latter smiling happily as she left James, but Remus felt something twist in his gut at the predatory gaze Lily gave James as soon as Lucy went back towards the punch table.

Was it…David Bowie? No, Elton John—the cover of that Beatles song, _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_ , that they were dancing to. How ironic.

Remus immediately moved to tell Lucy of what Lily had planned, but she stopped him with a simple wave of a red cup in front of his face.

"Why so serious, Remus?" she asked, a small grin tugging at her lips as she dangled the cup in front of his face.

He sighed, knowing that it was cruel of him to spoil her Christmas Eve, but it had to be done. Remus grabbed the cup if only to stop her from being distracted, but then the lyrics came on.

"Not the time for jokes, Lucy—"

 _Picture yourself in a boat on a river…with tangerine trees and marmalade skies…_

"Of course it is! We're at a dance, Remus!"

 _Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly…A girl with kaleidoscope eyes…_

"I need to tell you something—it's about Lily and James—"

 _Cellophane flowers of yellow and green…towering over your head…_

"James is fine, he's dancing with Lily, look—"

 _Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes…_

Remus felt her hands push him to glance at James's unusually slicked hair, just as _Lily_ _ **fucking**_ _Evans pulled him down to her level and_ _ **kissed**_ _James Potter_ right in front of their very eyes.

 _And she's gone…_

"Oh."

 _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds…_

* * *

 **A/N: I'm back guys! Germany was awesome, but city life was a bit too much for me. Here's a chapter to celebrate goin' back to the States! Also, how'd you like that ending? I know Lucy didn't…feel free to follow/fave/review! See you guys with the aftermath next chapter, wink wink ;).**

 **Credit to the Beatles for "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds", and to Elton John who made it popular again in '74. Also, I'm wondering if any of you mind the POV shifts? I like writing that way so it feels more dynamic; although, if it is too distracting, I can put labels of their names before I do start the shift.**


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters._

* * *

 **08: It's Complicated?**

 **DECEMBER 25 1976**

 _Midnight - Christmas Day_

* * *

The most prominent sensation she could describe was complete and utter confusion. It was all just a prank, wasn't it? Lily wouldn't kiss her boyfriend like that, right? That wasn't how relationships worked…was it? Her brain short-circuited several times repeating it to herself, that perhaps it was a trick the light.

But she knew it wasn't.

Remus eyed her cautiously, as one would approach a feral, wounded animal and he was trying to soothe her, but maybe the welling in her throat meant she was about to throw up. Or cry. Or curse Lily _fucking_ Evans for kissing her man.

Lucy couldn't tear her eyes from the two, where James already pushed her away from him in pure shock. Yet, she could hardly find the energy to move her feet to kill Lily, who looked like she wasn't ashamed of kissing James in front of _everybody_.

 _That_ made her move, and Remus trailed her steps to the tee, only to stop her before she could cast a spell on Lily.

"Don't stoop to her level, Lucy, please—I promise it'll be worth it," he breathed out, putting his chest between Lucy and the pair standing only a few feet away. "Lily's not worth your time—she's just jealous—"

"I don't care that she's _jealous!_ " Lucy exclaimed, her tone a little too rash for the well-meaning soul standing in her way. "I thought Lily _hated_ James—does she hate me too? Why would she do _that_?"

Her voice took on a pitch she'd never heard before, something between a whimper and a snarl that felt as odd as it sounded to her ears. Was that supposed to happen? It was all so much easier before all the mess she'd gotten into, before the Ball happened, and before she ever introduced James Potter into her life.

 _Why would Lily Evans do that to her?_

"Maybe you want to talk about this _outside_ , away from everyone?" suggested Remus, already pulling her towards the enchanted gardens she and _James_ were supposed to go visit after they'd gotten tired of dancing.

"Yeah, okay…" Her brain was too strung out to think of anything, and certainly not of the boy who grimaced at her expression each time he glanced back at her.

Remus stuck his hands in his pockets as soon as they entered a façade of the castle she'd never noticed before. Rosebushes lined the stone walls, leading into a small park that held various fountains containing elements of snow within them. Whatever spell Dumbledore cast had prevented the water from freezing—creating a crystal-clear shine to the surfaces.

She sat by a fountain of a phoenix, the tail-feathers glinting softly with icicles. Remus set himself next to her, and Lucy watched tiny tendrils of white air circulate between both for a moment before he started speaking.

"Look Lucy—I-I really am sorry for what Lily did. I just wanted a dance with you, so I could explain something I couldn't help myself from doing, and I thought Lily was doing the same with James. It wasn't supposed to be her kissing him, and I don't know how to say I'm sorry anymore without it being not enough." Remus's voice sounded too weathered for someone their age, too guilty for Lucy's ears to not listen.

She felt something wilt in her stomach, a sick feeling of bile in her throat threatening to escape. Why would anyone be so cruel on _Christmas,_ for crying out loud?! Lucy never did anything to Lily Evans, except maybe in her head! And Remus? She didn't even know what to think of him.

"Y-you _planned_ this?" She asked, her voice hardly above a whisper in the crisp night. "Why would _**you**_ do something like this, Remus? I thought we were _friends_ again—"

"That's just it, Lucy. We are _**friends**_ ," cut in Remus, an inexplicable frown marring his features. "I couldn't do that to you—I told Lily to cut it off the second we walked into the Great Hall."

"Then, why did she still kiss James? I suppose you didn't know she'd do that, right?" she asked sarcastically, her breath steadily getting faster and nose colder with every huff.

"You have to believe me—I swear, I had no idea she was going to do that! I couldn't, not to you or James. I'm sorry—" Remus looked down, unable to meet her eyes with each apology.

"I don't want to hear you say I'm sorry anymore, Remus!" Lucy exclaimed, sheer astonishment at their behavior fueling her rising voice in the bitter cold. "How many more times do we have to have these kinds of conversations? I haven't had many friends or boyfriends, but I'm certain that people don't backstab each other in these kinds of relationships! Sometimes I wish you'd never talked to me on the train, or ever again, or that I'd never gone to the Ball with James in the first place, so it'd be the way it used to be! Me! Alone! No one to hurt my feelings or play with my emotions!"

* * *

Lucy was tearing his heart apart whether she knew it or not. He felt sick at his own behavior, and of her very words. Did she really prefer being alone to being with him or his friends? How could she _want_ no friends? He knew how it was, being alone. And she was correct that no one hurt his feelings when he was alone. But no one cared about them either.

Remus looked up from his shoes to look at Lucy still breathing heavily, her emblazoned anger giving way to a shine in her eyes. Tears. Because of him. And Lily. Lucy bent over out of his sight, her arms tucked into her chest, and her hands resting on her head as if she were straining to understand _why_.

And if he was being honest, he knew exactly why they'd both done this to her in the first place. _**Jealousy**_ _._ A little green-eyed demon that he and Lily were guilty of. A little sob burst from Lucy next to him, her sniffle brushed off by dainty hands as soon as it came.

Fuck him, fuck Lily Evans, and fuck being jealous. He'd never meant to make her cry.

"…I-I don't think you mean that, Lucy." Remus found his voice saying into the silent Christmas night.

"I don't?" she asked with a scoff, untucking her head for a second. "Then tell me why this hurts so much, Remus. Xeno and Pandora don't make me feel like this, and neither did James…but I don't think I could even stand to look at him right now. _She's_ corrupted him."

Remus took a breath, his mind dwelling on the painfully lonely nights at home, and of the football games he'd never get to join, and of the horrible stares from people each time he went in public with his parents. The poor _abused_ Lupin child, they'd say with pity in their eyes, and a warning to their children with it.

"I never had any friends growing up. My closest friend was my mum, and all the time, I remember wishing I could hang out with the kids in the village, just so I could see what it was like to have someone to talk to that wasn't my parents," said Remus softly, his brow unable to drop the frown etching his face. "Then I finally get to come to Hogwarts, and I meet this girl on the train that's holding a wand and asking to join me in my carriage. I think she's nuts at first, cos who wants to sit with the weird kid with all the scars on his face, right? No, she's a book enthusiast like me, and we hit it off somehow…until some brats chase her away and adopt me like a lost puppy into their group."

"Sirius and James," Lucy muttered, a small smile on her tear-streaked face. "They were a bunch of brats, huh?"

"Still are," agreed Remus, a warm feeling flooding his chest at stopping the heart-wrenching tears coming from her. "But they're my best friends. I think I'd die for them if they'd let me."

"They'd do it first, Remus." Lucy had gotten closer to him during his story, her eyes glowing in the night like beacons. The severity was not missed. Not too long ago, a girl got escorted from the Great Hall to get the news of the murder of her family; everyone had known except her. None of them had eaten much that dinner. "I know they would."

"Would you?" He shouldn't have asked that. Remus found himself retreating from the moment fast—what if she said _no?!—_ He barely heard it, a whisper lost in the wind but not to his ears.

" _I don't know."_

His heart constricted, a foreign instinct beckoning him down to her level.

" _Can I be honest with you?"_ he whispered back to her, unable to comprehend how close they'd gotten and how her eyes called to him like lamps in the night.

" _Sure. You're my friend too, Remus."_ She was so close, so close—

" _I think I would for you, if it came down to it,"_ Remus breathed out, his heart beating fast under her entrancing gaze. Before he did something he'd regret, he pulled back from the hypnotic scent of coffee and flowers she seemed to give off.

" _I think I would for you, if it came down to it."_ Remus pulled back ever so slightly, but Lucy grabbed onto his much larger hand before they could separate more.

" _Why?"_ she asked, her heart racing as if she were seeing Remus clearly for the first time in her life. His hand closed around hers, a warmth that spread to the tips of her toes with the emotion in his forest green eyes. Their breath mingled softly in the frosty air, but then she couldn't distinguish hers from his anymore.

" _Because of this."_

* * *

Chapped lips. The air stopped hitting her face so bitterly, the world stopped spinning, and a supernova exploded its cosmic dust within her stomach, no care, no restraint, and no other comment except that _kissing Remus felt right._

That was the only thing she could think as her eyes fluttered shut. Remus was kissing her. _**Remus was kissing her!**_ Remus fucking Lupin kissed her so gently, Lucy sighed as they kept their embrace for anyone who came into the garden to see. James didn't kiss like Remus. She wasn't even sure James could compare to Remus.

James. James bloody Potter, the guy that'd bought her a lovely dress, who'd taught her that friends were a bit more important than some crazy trip that'd get done with or without her nitpicking. _**James Potter, who Lily Evans kissed in front of the entire school.**_

She broke from the best kiss of her life with a small gasp.

" _Remus—"_

" _I'm so sorry—I couldn't I just—"_

" _This can't happen."_ Quick, to the punch. Before her heart beat out of her chest and into Remus's hands like putty. "I can't—we can't—"

"I know," Remus said softly, his heartbroken little smile cleaving the well of _something_ in her chest that screamed in agony. "I just wanted to let you know."

"I think I've known for a while, Remus, but James…" she trailed off, her hand falling from the place it'd found on his chest. Lucy cast a shy glance towards the entrance of the garden, not wanting to see the disappointment written all over Remus's face. But she heard it anyways.

"But James," he confirmed, pulling himself to his feet to walk back into the castle. "Are you ready?"

No. But she took his offered hand anyways, a soft tingle burning its way up and down her arm.

"Yeah."

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, James Potter was decidedly _not_ a lady's man. He didn't sleep around like Sirius, and he didn't want to lead girls on—even if he certainly could with his dashing good looks. He had a very doting girlfriend, thank you very much, and he did not appreciate the girl of his waking dreams stomping on her honor like a doormat with a kiss he still couldn't believe just happened.

"Stay away from me, Evans," spat James, wiping his still-flaming lips with his suit's sleeve. He turned directly towards where Remus had taken Lucy, scanning the crowd for any sign of the silver-eyed beauty.

He could barely hold back the shudder that came from Lily grabbing onto his shoulder abruptly.

"Pot—James, I thought you cared about me?" she asked with a voice that'd haunt his nightmares forever. James could hear her talk to him for hours if she let him. If he weren't trying to forget about her with Lucy Wendell. He turned back to look at her, the emerald almonds of her eyes glittering, not with confusion, but with determination.

What the _fuck_?

"I don't know what you're playing at Evans—one day you're cursing the day I was born for _daring_ to crush on you, the next you're kissing a _taken_ man—I don't even know who you are anymore!" James rushed out, before the sensation of her holding his arm became too much. He yanked himself out of her grasp, taking a step away from the _siren_ that'd entranced every single sense in his body. "Just—just stay away from me. _**Please**_ …"

Lily Evans had every bit of emotion upon her face with his last plea. James didn't know if he could step back from her if she stopped him again, the crushing sensation that flooded his chest sucking every semblance of air with the realization seeping through every pore of his body. _Lily Evans had feelings for him. For him,_ _ **James Potter**_. Who was going out with Lucille Wendell.

Merlin, when did his life get so bloody complicated?!

"I'm really sorry, Evans—I can't do this to Lucy," he apologized, his feet already halfway across the Great Hall before he could let himself breathe for a second.

James found the entrance to the rose gardens, his lungs filling with the Scottish air that never failed to remind him of Christmas-time with Sirius, Mum, and Dad back at Potter Manor. He let his eyes close as his memories banished all thoughts of a red-head with green eyes and sank onto a bench by a fountain of a unicorn, which remarkably through the freezing air, kept its stream steady.

He could still feel her soft, _scorching_ lips as snow fell around him.

James opened his eyes and jumped to his feet in a flash. Every _single_ time it was _**her.**_ When he was with Lucy, it was _**her**_ , and how Lucy's hair wasn't _**cherry red**_ and how her eyes weren't _**emerald green**_. Maybe he was going mad. Mad for a girl that he thought would never ever go out with him.

He paced through the square garden, finally hearing a sigh that _James wasn't supposed to be hearing_. And then he heard his name float in and out of whatever conversation the couple was having, his hazel eyes unable to believe the pair sitting by the phoenix statue.

It was…Remus and Lucy. And they were sitting a little too close for comfort to the boy who'd just kissed another girl that night.

Lucy then pressed her hand away from Remus, her dazed eyes leaving him wondering if they were really seeing anything at all in that moment.

"Are you ready?" asked Remus, his voice strained and broken against the gusts of wind that began shaking the rosebushes around the garden.

James barely heard Lucy say yes, and then he felt his legs give way by the enormous potted bush that'd hidden him from their view. He didn't even want to think about what Lucy and Remus were talking about in the garden, but he hoped it was better than what Lily and he talked about in the castle.

It certainly _looked_ like they'd gotten whatever they kept between each other across—which made him feel…a little strange. But James trusted Lucy to tell him if anything did happen—even while he swore to himself: _he would not tell Lucy about the kiss with Lily._

* * *

 **DECEMBER 25 1976**

 _Christmas Morning_

* * *

There'd never been anyone in Lily's life that'd _embarrassed_ her as much as James Potter. From his stunts in the Great Hall, to ardently declaring his love for her every other day—to the morning after the Yule Ball, where he'd openly _rejected_ her kiss. Lily's face flamed under the crimson sheets of the Girl's Gryffindor Dorm, where Lucy Wendell had yet to set foot since the Ball last night.

Lily didn't want to face her—and how could she, anyways? She'd done more to her than Lucy had ever done to anyone, ever. She hoped the little box wrapped on the girl's bed would warm her up, but she was nowhere to be seen. The last Lily heard of her was James telling Sirius was that she had been with Remus—who'd gotten back later than the rest as well—which meant _that_ part of the plan had gone smoothly, at least, even if the stubborn boy had qualms at the last second.

Human nature. Or perhaps, _werewolf_ nature in Remus's case. She'd known for a long time about his affliction, and probably even before his friends did as well—who couldn't be more obvious by their smothering.

Regardless, Lily felt something in the air. A warning? Bad tidings? She could feel the tingling of the air surge as if something _big_ was going to happen—maybe it was the new year? Or maybe it was because of her actions. The ones that could not go unpunished.

Shrugging it off with a sink of her stomach, Lily sat up to pull aside her curtains. No one could make _Lily Evans_ back down, Pureblood, Half-blood, or Muggleborn.

* * *

Lucy's mind felt fuzzy. Maybe even a little blank since remusLUPINKISSEDHEROHMYGOD—no, she took a deep breath, and continued her work in front of the chalkboard. There seemed to be an unchecked flaw in the suit she was supposed to be wearing.

Bubble Head Charms were just that—meant for the head—so altering it to simply be a Bubble Charm negated the circulation of air that made it vital to the very principle of wearing a spacesuit. Lucy remembered mentioning something in her notes, but since she lost her book it'd been back to square one with refreshing her memory.

Rubbing her eyes, she felt them heavier than ever—not sleeping made her body feel like a sack of wet sand every time. However, if she let herself have a break, the _feelings_ would come back, so she continued prodding the suit for details along each of the fibers. Pressure would be an issue, breaking the atmosphere during re-entry would be an issue, and the circulation of air would be an issue.

Great. It was almost like she didn't even make a suit to begin with!

The Room of Requirement shifted suddenly. Lucy turned to find an inviting bed calling her name, with all the blankets looking fluffy and soft. Fuck, a nap sounded so good…almost as good as _Remus_ _kissing—_

Damn the Room for tempting her like that.

"Nice try—I won't be sleeping today, buddy," she called out to the sentient empty room, who simply made the bed vanish with a pop. Huffing, Lucy turned back to the board to brainstorm a solution to her problem. So far, magical interference was not an issue, which made the suit good for something at least—but that meant the previous Charms she'd tested on it were useless.

The good news was that maybe an Imperturbable Charm would fix the atmospheric pressure shift problem going a higher pressure to a lower pressure, caused by exiting the atmosphere. Reentering was a whole different problem. The increase of pressure was why most space debris simply burned up on entry, with the atmosphere exerting significantly more pressure the closer it got to the Earth. But that was without magic.

Holy fuck, it hit her out of nowhere— _Arresto Momentum!_

It was so simple, Lucy cursed herself for not considering the most basic of spells. All she had to do was cast it before hitting the ground—which put her at a slight time constraint if the broom faltered at the precipice of the atmosphere. It resolved the "Plan B" if her spells didn't hold up to the different environment of space and the Moon.

Thoroughly pleased, she let herself sink into one of the chairs the Room had spawned into existence. At least her scribbling had put her mind at ease for _some_ time. Sitting made her dizzy so she stood at once to go back to Gryffindor Tower. She'd need a brave face to see both James and Lily, and Lucy hoped she wouldn't lose her temper as bad as last night.

Waving her wand at the board, she left a single word written on it: _Momentum_. That way, no one would understand what she meant if someone were to gain entry to the Room. But she doubted that anyone would even _find_ the Room of Requirement. She picked up the sparkling dress and made her way out of the room.

The Seventh Floor halls all had tinsel streaming from surface to surface, and the Fat Lady was no exception. Nearly groaning at the stairs in front of her, Lucy eyed the woman in a bitter mood. The glass of wine in the Lady's hand probably never emptied that night, and she sung a far too loud tune to the newcomer.

"Good Christmas Morning darling! Password?"

"Merry Christmas," Lucy said flatly, her mind off on another tangent.

"That doesn't sound like Christmas cheer," muttered the Fat Lady, swinging open regardless.

"That's cause it isn't," Lucy bit back, swinging the dress over her other arm. There were a lot of people in the Common Room, but no redhead in sight. So far, so good. She started up the stairs, nearly to the top when someone _loudly_ called her name.

"Lucy!" exclaimed James _fucking_ Potter, carrying what looked like her Christmas present in his hands. "I got something for you!"

She _almost_ gaped at him, but she kept her jaw tight before any mention of last night came out. Lucy glanced around, to see if anyone had any interest to see if she were still going out with Boy Wonder and she narrowed her eyes slightly. Had everyone just _missed_ the fact that Lily kissed James?

"Hey James, wait a sec—I'll go get your gift too," Lucy managed to choke out, and continued her path up the stairs. It made her brain pause in how far she was drawing conclusions from. James _obviously_ still cared enough for her to give her a gift for Christmas—which in all honesty would be rude not to do for his (still?)-girlfriend, but how much did that kiss affect him?

If Lucy were still dwelling on Remus's kiss the night after, surely, James would be thinking about Lily's too—unless boys thought differently than girls did, which was probably true. She hadn't even noticed she'd thrown herself on her four-poster bed until a hard surface underneath her back demanded Lucy's notice.

Sticking a hand to it, Lucy knew what it was before she saw it. How often had she used its dimensions to measure something? How many times did she whip it out to write down her latest idea? Countless! Her little black book was carefully wrapped in a bright red opaque cellophane and had no signature or anything to mark it as significant to anyone but her.

Lucy jumped off the bed in an instant. She drew her wand over its surface, to see if anyone had messed with the runes meant to defend her work from anyone, but a _Revelio_ later gave no indication of tampering. Dumbfounded, she sat back on her bed, cradling the package she had yet to unravel.

Who had taken it only to return it? That was stupid, a not well-thought-out plan seemingly failing with the capture and consequential return of her book to the owner, herself. Maybe they felt guilty, which meant that the person who took it had enough morality to regret their decision. But who?

Lucy peeled off the wrapping paper from her book, the cellophane crinkling each way as she revealed the familiar black leather. A card lay atop the cover, simply stating, "I'm sorry," in a hand she couldn't make out who from. She could subtract her suspect list easily, however.

James did not have that informal handwriting, nor Remus's soft loops. It was a mixture of soft and harsh blue lines that she'd never seen before. Lucy could worry about that later though, and she skimmed the book for any callousness done to her precious object. Scanning through the rune pages, only one was broken—indicated by the flashing red line through the charcoal swirls.

The Roman Sentry Charm, famously used by Julius Caesar throughout Ancient Rome to prevent entry from rogue wizards who wanted to break into homes—at least, before his untimely death—was the only one the person had broken through. Which made sense from a historical perspective—the more famous the spell, the more people know how to counter it.

The discovery of her book made her breathe a sigh of relief, even if it _had_ been out of her reach for the past few days. Not seeing anyone else in the room, she managed to plaster a grin on her face, even if it was a little wonky. She had her book back. James Potter still (maybe) cared about her.

And so did Remus Lupin.

Her stomach dropped again. A cold rush of ice water rushed over her head, and Lucy reeled at the thought of seeing him again. Which didn't make her feel tingly all over. Or blush into another dimension.

Fuck.

Her back hit the bed again, and Lucy cradled her book into her hands as she debated going back down to see James. Maybe he would buy an excuse of why she didn't go down later? If the droopiness of her eyes were any indicator, he could clearly see why she _forgot_ to see him, but that made her rude for promising him his gift. Everyone else had gotten chocolate, but not James.

It was wrapped in copies of the Daily Prophet that she'd scavenged in desperation. Lucy hadn't wanted to bother anyone for wrapping paper, so she made do with what she could find—discarded newspapers. At least she had Charmed them to flash different colors she knew James would enjoy anyways. And the moving pictures made it kind of neat to look at.

It always was a bit interesting to give someone a gift. They could either love or hate it, and it usually showed on their face the instant they opened it—which made Lucy anxious. What _if_ he didn't like it? _What if he liked kissing Lily Evans?_

Biting down a scream of frustration, she got up from the too-comfortable mattress instantly. Gryffindors didn't back down from _anyone._

* * *

"Hey, is that Lucy?"

Remus couldn't help but stick his neck up over the crowd to catch a glimpse of her, much to the curiosity of Sirius Black.

"Get her something for Christmas too, Moony?" he mused, a Cheshire Cat grin on his face.

 _Only a kiss in the rose gardens that Remus would never forget—so nothing much._

"Yeah, nothing too fancy—" excused Remus, shrugging his shoulders in a way he hoped was nonchalant. "—just a sweater I think she'll like. I put a Warming Charm on it."

"That's nice, Lucy _hates_ the cold," murmured James, still focused on maneuvering spindly legs through the many students littered along the floor, chattering about their gifts. The plush couch was in the center of the room—where everyone convoluted but knew not to occupy.

"We were supposed to get _her_ something too?" groaned Peter, fumbling with the sack that contained his gifts. "It's not like she's all of our girlfriend's."

"She's James's girlfriend, which makes her our friend by association, Wormy," explained Sirius, his inexplicable grace following James's step to the tee. "Don't you remember when I dated McKinnon in Fifth Year?"

"Yeah but you'd broken up with her by Christmas, Pads."

"That's not important here Wormtail," Sirius huffed, sticking an arm to prevent the stumbling boy from crushing some First Years that'd camped in before their couch. "It's the principle. Even _I_ got her something."

"Damn!" cursed Peter, sinking into his side of the sofa in worry. "So which one of you isn't getting a gift from me this year?"

"I'd have to say James," pondered Remus, careful to keep any envy out of his voice. "She _is his girlfriend_ , after all."

"That makes sense," Sirius agreed, his wavy locks bouncing as he nodded thoughtfully. "Hurry up and change the tag, Wormy."

"Alright."

Lucy finally descended from the Girl's Dormitory as Peter dug through his bag of presents, making Sirius nudge them all in acknowledgement.

"There she is!" hissed Sirius, shoving his hands into Peter's bag as well. "Hurry up—I'll change it for you, so she won't notice!"

Their fumbling did not alert her, miraculously, but Remus felt her laser-hot stare pierce through him regardless of whatever distraction happened.

"Morning boys," she drawled in that accent of hers, starkly not European in any way, shape, or form, but music to his ears. "Merry Christmas."

"You look like a mess!" exclaimed James, finally drawing his eyes towards the bane of his existence. And it was true—dark rims surrounded gray eyes, making him draw the conclusion that she'd not slept a wink last night. Being honest to himself, Remus couldn't think of anything but her lips on his either.

"Thanks, my wonderful, detail-oriented, _boyfriend,_ " Lucy muttered, handing James a small box wrapped in…the Daily Prophet?

"What's up with that wrapping paper?" noted Sirius, looking at her strangely, as if he thought it ludicrous to consider _ever_ wrapping gifts in news rags.

"Nothing wrong with it, just a couple of old newspapers," defended Lucy, huffing a breath at James. "Right, James?"

"No, I think it's unique!"

"Good way of avoiding her wrath, Prongs."

"I'm okay with her wrath if it includes more cool stuff. Having someone who likes making stuff is alright in my book." James managed to cram Lucy between the armrest and his shoulder.

"Speaking of books—I found mine!"

Lucy brightened like a ray of sunshine—reaching into her pockets, she pulled out the notebook Lily must've taken from her. But why would she return it? Not that he was complaining at seeing Lucy cheerful again, but Lily probably felt guilty after sabotaging the girl at every turn.

"For something that's not very spectacular, I'm glad you have it back," Sirius said, keeping his usual bite out of the words. Strange.

"That's great, Lucy!" James cracked a wide grin. "Who do you think took it?"

"That's what I'm planning to find out, James." The conviction in her voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "I won't tell you how I'll do it, only that I will."

"So, are we gonna sit here all day talking about Lucy's book or are we going to open our presents?" asked Peter, a simple blank expression on his face.

"Present-time!" shrieked Sirius, much to the amusement of their classmates in the vicinity. "You'll never guess what I got you, James."

"Let me guess then," smirked Lucy, eyeing the package that'd appeared in Sirius's hands. "Candy. That isn't _really_ candy."

Something mischievous gleamed in Sirius's eyes, and Remus couldn't hold back the smile that came over his face. Christmas at Hogwarts felt much better than it did at home.

"Of course not." Regardless, everyone handed each other something wrapped in different color paper, Lucy's flashing every which way.

"Oi, who got me the collar?" cackled Sirius suddenly, holding upa bright red collar that Remus knew if he checked, was _his_ size. "James, you bastard!"

Said boy could hardly refrain from laughing, but he managed to choke out a few words before.

"It wasn't me!" James defended, finally calming down at the bemused glance Lucy shot all of them.

"Remus?!" squeaked out Peter, unable to keep the tears of laughter off his face.

"Yeah, Peter?" replied Remus, a sly smirk on his face.

" _You_ got that for Sirius?"

"Maybe."

He'd gotten Peter and James chocolates, so Peter worried over nothing. Remus had seen the collar in a muggle store over the summer and knew Sirius would kill him for buying it, so he'd done it anyways.

"I hate you, Moony," muttered Sirius, a wide smile on his face even at his words.

The ruffling of paper continued until James stopped them all with his exuberant movements.

"Okay boys—and Lucy—I'm about to open Lucy's, so someone get a wand out before I find out it's a killer robot."

"I knew we shouldn't have shown him that movie," muttered Peter, keeping his eyes peeled on the little package regardless.

"If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be here right now, James." The very air in the room dropped at Lucy's words, but maybe it was only so to Remus. God, he was so fucked if James and Lucy _did_ try killing each other. And with their tempers, he wasn't certain _when_ it would happen.

"Real funny—" James tore off the wrapping paper like an excited child. "—but we all know that wouldn't happen."

They all stopped short at the contents; a…rocket? It was tiny, maybe about the size of a golf ball, but Remus liked the brilliant colors she'd adorned it with.

"Erm—I love it?" James managed, obviously confused to what it meant.

"Pick it up, you idiot," huffed Lucy, smacking his shoulder. "You think I would _ever_ make something insignificant?"

"You're right." James picked it up, and much to their amazement, the little thing shot off like a small bird. It hovered over James's head like a frozen bullet—until he tried snatching it. It flew off towards Sirius, who then also tried grabbing it, at which it flew back towards Lucy, who simply sat staring fondly.

"Why don't you say, 'Mission Accomplished,' James?" she suggested softly, and he did exactly as she said.

The rocket flew back to the owner, falling back into his lap like a regular Muggle toy. James picked it up, examined it, and looked at Lucy strangely.

"What's the point of making it so I couldn't catch it?" he asked, holding the rocket in his grasp still.

"Did you try telling it to go somewhere?" asked Lucy with a 'duh!' look on her face. "What kind of mission has no destination?"

"So how do I make it go?"

"If it's deactivated by saying the mission's accomplished, maybe 'Mission Start?'" reasoned Remus, seeing the idea of how to command it.

"Mission Start!" James said, and the little thing fluttered to life again. "Go to Sirius!"

Obediently, it buzzed towards Sirius, who too was enraptured by the small toy.

"Attack!" joked James, but the rocket wasn't messing around. At once, little missiles began launching themselves at Sirius, who was unprepared for the sudden bursts of materiel shot at him.

"What the hell, Lucy?!" exclaimed Sirius, swatting the tiny things with his hands furiously. "Why'd you make it shoot stuff?!"

"I thought it was funny?" Lucy shrugged, a nonchalant hand waving away his concern. "You'll only be stained for a few minutes anyways."

"Stained?" asked James, and true to her word, small splotches of red paint had already convoluted into a stain on Sirius's robes. "Awesome! Now, Mission Accomplished!"

"Well, thanks for one-upping everyone in the room, Lucy," muttered Peter, but Remus was the only one who heard.

"Now open my present!" James had the energy of a two-year old during Christmas, and he shoved the package right into her hands.

She pulled out…a necklace? It was silver, with an enormous sapphire dominating everyone's attention. It was carved into a shape of a crescent moon, and Lucy gaped at James at the extravagance of the present.

"Never mind about the one-upping, Luce…" Peter mumbled, again Remus being the only one to hear him.

"James…I can't take this expensive gift from you," Lucy began, delicately setting the necklace down as if it were a glass of dynamite.

"It's not only from me though, Mum thought you'd like it too…" James argued. "I'll not be taking it back, cos blue's not my color anyways."

Begrudgingly (which meant after their long dispute that Remus had tuned out of), Lucy let James clasp the crescent around her neck. Remus stared at it contemplatively. Blue _was_ her color, and it let him gaze at her bosom for longer than was necessary. He felt the back of his neck flame, and Remus pressed himself against the couch to try and calm down.

"So, who's going to eat all these chocolates with me?" Lucy broke him out of the dirty thoughts he'd been having (of her no less, the scoundrel), and Remus readily agreed to her offer.

"Is that even a question?!"

* * *

 _ **A/N: Uh, in my defense, I started university classes and the mini-mester is getting a lot more demanding as finals are coming up. I'll probably have more time to update after summer's over, ironically.**_

 _ **And how's that for Christmas surprises? I know Remus is too sweet for his own good, and Lily's in for catching hell soon…so don't worry about that, wink wink. See y'all next chapter. Hopefully it won't be so long between updates again, and this had a bit of fluff to make up for it. BTW, this is now the longest chapter!**_

 _ **Feel free to R/R!**_


	9. 09

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters/places/etc. Only things I own are OC's._

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Snake and Rat**

 **DECEMBER 31 1976**

 _4 days before the Full Moon_

* * *

Severus Snape _hated_ knowing things.

He hated knowing things about other members of his house that'd get them a one-way ticket to Azkaban. He hated knowing Dark Magic that would make people like Peter Pettigrew never sleep in their lives again. He hated knowing that Remus Lupin was a werewolf without being telling anyone. And he hated knowing that Lily Evans was falling for James Potter.

It seemed only Severus would be cursed to have such a good memory. Of course, it was not a boon; the trials and tribulations of the Slytherin House would not let him forget it, but it certainly was not a blessing. It wasn't even a week later that he'd already considered Obliviating himself as a way of forgetting.

Drastically _dramatic_ , he knew.

But it was the only way. There'd be no other explanation for his _Lily Evans_ kissing _James bloody Potter_. She _hated_ him! At least, he'd thought so, even after Severus had called her what she was the year before. Severus managed to hide his grimace at the memory. An overreaction that'd led to her forsaking his name; a discomfort, he'd admit.

The first summer without her felt like an eternity—his only reprieve was the fact that she'd be going back to Hogwarts in September. Spinner's End wasn't anywhere she'd set foot in ever again. Because of _him._

James _fucking_ Potter.

Why did that _idiot_ have to save his own skin by saving Severus's? He'd known _something_ had been happening to Lupin the last few years, but Dumbledore was raving mad to let a _werewolf_ on the grounds. Being sworn to secrecy was something Severus had loathed to accept; oh yes, he'd nearly died by Lupin, but they'd still be allowed at Hogwarts? He knew a lost fight when he saw one.

And Potter had the nerve to continue _harassing_ Lily. To his disgusting displays of so-called affection nearly every week, to his annoying habit of messing his hair, to the _sheer arrogance_ of his stride, James Potter did _not_ deserve Lily Evans for a second of his _blasted_ life. Which made the sudden interest in Lucille Wendell good news to his ears.

He'd heard of the nutcase from his fellow dormmates; she'd be perfect if she weren't a Half-Blood. In fact, he'd even heard something of the tiny book she carried around, but not enough to make her a potential target; a real shame if Severus had anything to say about it.

Wendell could be an asset to their cause! She wasn't an airhead like most of the dunderheads that roamed the halls, she wasn't important to anyone, really—she could be _slightly_ below himself in terms of intelligence. The only thing was that now, she was Potter's girlfriend. Which meant that Lily wasn't. And couldn't be, if all the gossip he'd been hearing about Wendell was correct. She had the same, unfortunate mentality all Gryffindors seemed to possess: a _prideful_ one.

Keeping Wendell as Potter's girlfriend made Lily Evans unable to act on the supposed _emotions_ he'd seen at the Ball. Severus would die before Lily went out with James Potter. All he had to do was keep James Potter and Lucille Wendell together, at least until Lily stopped showing interest in the _idiot._ Then the mongrel could have Wendell, just to hurt Potter even more.

And Severus knew just _who_ would do the dirty work for him.

* * *

Peter wasn't all that sure _when_ his friends started crooning about Lucy Wendell, but he was sure that he was _sick_ of it.

Yes, she invented things. Yes, she was smart. Yes, she was dating James Potter. That didn't make her a bloody _angel from Heaven itself!_ She'd gotten James _and_ Remus; only Sirius was left unscathed from the _love potion_ she had to have drugged them with to cause _this_ much attention. But everyone knew Sirius was the counterpart to James, not Peter.

It was almost as if she'd taken _his_ place as their friend, _his_ place at the table, and _his_ friends to go along with it! Peter shifted his book bag to the other shoulder, staring angrily at the vacant space in front of him. James belonged there. Sirius belonged next to him. Remus belonged beside Peter, the final piece to their marauding quartet. How dare some _whore_ replace him?

She wasn't even an Animagus! She didn't even know Remus was a _fucking werewolf!_ She did _not_ deserve his friends! Huffing to himself, Peter narrowly missed the hooked nose of Snape in his squinty anger, finally stumbling over his feet to apologize.

"S-s-sorry, I didn't s-s-see you, Snape," he managed to choke out, already feeling the hairs at the back of his pudgy neck stand up. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Peter'd barely managed a shuffle backwards before Snape extended a swift arm in front of his chest.

"No, I don't think I'll excuse you, Pettigrew," he said silkily, a wand sitting comfortably in his spindly hand. "Seems you're all alone in these halls nowadays, aren't you?"

 _Fuck, fuck—_

Flushing, Peter shook his head.

"No! No, James just escorted Lucy to the Lake with Sirius and Remus, I just-just—"

"You just happened to be alone while all your friends are outside enjoying the snowfall?"

Trying his hardest not to tear up or whimper, Peter thought frantically of what to say.

"Yeah, yeah! I didn't want to play in the snow!" agreed Peter, clutching his book bag handle tighter. "I was just heading to the…the…"

"To the Library?" completed Snape, a sarcastic drone accompanying his words.

"Yeah!"

"Going to the library on holiday? Do you think I'm an idiot, Pettigrew?" Snape hissed, making Peter cringe even harder.

"No, no! I don't think that!" he cried, feeling his heart accelerate to a painful rhythm. "Of course I don't!"

"Good, because I need you to do something for me." Snape stealthily slid his wand back into the illusionary confines of his robes. Wait, what? "I suppose you know about what happened at the Ball, Pettigrew?"

His tone shifted into the silky, predatory one of a snake, and Peter hesitantly nodded even though the danger had passed. At least, he guessed so.

"And I suppose you know about Lupin's…condition?"

Peter felt his blood freeze, but he continued gazing at Snape wordlessly. With an awareness creeping into every sense of his being, Peter gave him a nod. He'd been there that night James saved Snape, so there was no use in lying.

"It'd be a shame…if anyone were to find out about him, wouldn't it?" Snape prodded, a sick sneer curling on his sullen features. "It'd especially be a shame if that someone was Potter's girlfriend…you know, the one who can't keep her mouth shut about the Moon, right?"

Oh, no…

"Please don't tell her—she'd tell everyone!" Peter finally cracked, his plea all too loud in the deserted corridor. "Remus would never—" Remus would never be left alone again, he nearly admitted, before some nerve possessed him to say something else. "—You wouldn't!"

Surprising even himself, Peter tried to contain his pride at sticking up for himself, the way James and Sirius would have if it'd been them Snivellus had talked to, the way they did when they'd stuck together.

"I wouldn't, Pettigrew?" For a second, he genuinely seemed confused. Peter growing a spine? What? But then Snape's tone went dangerously low, a warning that even Sirius would heed, even for a second. "And why is that?"

Fumbling for an answer, Peter swallowed his tongue in delivering the lamest excuse he'd ever heard, and that's because he was friends with James.

"Because Dumbledore told you not to."

Snape paused again, unable to process what Peter'd said for a moment, but it was enough for him to smile bitterly, almost as if he'd said something funny.

"I do not fear that old fool!" The grin grotesquely stretched back into grimace. "And if you think for a second that I will not tell her, it will be _**your fault**_ when I do, Pettigrew. All your friends will know it was because _you_ _couldn't_ do a simple task. They will _ **hate**_ you."

His friends would never hate him! They wouldn't! Even if he wasn't as smart, even if he didn't have other friends, _even if Lucy found out!_ He _was_ their friend! _But would friends_ _ **leave**_ _friends alone for a girl who'd never even_ _ **spoken**_ _to them before Sixth Year? Would friends_ _ **abandon**_ _others over a girlfriend? Would friends let him be_ _ **bullied**_ _by the likes of Snape?!_ These thoughts swirled around his head like a mantra—Peter felt his nostrils flare at the indignity he'd been reduced to. To being left behind because Lucy wanted to go see the frozen lake? To being threatened by Snape because of it?

Snape acknowledged the ambivalence that must've shown on Peter's face, and he continued, a softer (if Snape could ever be soft) note to his final words.

"But they _won't_ _hate you_ if you make sure Wendell stays together with Potter. Only Potter will be affected by her, and when they get sick of her—you get to go back to the way it was. The way it was without her making your friends fight, without her bothering anyone except Potter. Don't you like hanging out with Lupin and Black?" reasoned Snape, his rationale alleviating every irrational fear Peter had since Lucy'd become James's girlfriend. He was undeniably right! Peter could have his friends back!

Almost as if a light had dawned over the dark and muddled thoughts he'd had, Peter found himself nodding along with Snape.

"I'll do it."

* * *

"Are you okay, Remus, you're looking a little…pale?" asked Lucy, setting down the sleeve of the sweater she'd been picking at. "You sure you're not sick?"

It was nothing anyone in the past few years hadn't told him, he nearly huffed at her. But then James and Sirius eyed him darkly, so he offered the baseline he'd told everyone.

"Yeah, I'm just a little sleepy. Late night," Remus shrugged nonchalantly, stretching his legs over the footstool Sirius sat next to.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. She didn't suspect a thing. There was nothing for him to start worrying about if he didn't make it obvious.

"Yeah, this guy never stops!" added James, nudging Lucy with a faux-playful smirk. "He's nearly as bad as you when it comes to reading useless things!"

"My research might be useless to _you_ , but to _me_ , it makes perfect sense," started Lucy, her voice trailing off for him as soothing white noise in the bustle of the Common Room. Thank God James could easily distract her.

Sirius tapped his leg absent-mindedly against the floor, he and Remus watching James's rocket zoom around bothering students. They had all gathered by the fireplace to warm up after Lucy grew tired of the bitter air, during which James had unleashed it to wreak havoc upon the room. It was just as if it would be if they weren't lounging around. It satisfied Remus to no end that Lucy kept the jumper he'd given her on, even when they did go inside.

"Think you're up for the firework show tonight?" asked Sirius finally, a much quieter tone than that of the ferocious argument that blazed up as James and Lucy went back and forth.

"I dunno. I wasn't lying about the late night," muttered Remus, feeling the ache in his very bones for the upcoming moon. It was as if someone'd taken them out in the night and rearranged them in the _wrong_ locations, making them crick and pop with certain movements. "I'll see if _he_ can handle the loud noises."

Sirius made a nod of agreement at the mention of his alter ego, recognizing how delicate and moody the wolf could be prior to the moon. Four days. Four days until he tore himself apart and put himself back together again. Remus was just lucky to have a milder condition than usual.

"We'll see you then, yeah?" Sirius hummed, still not taking his eyes off the rocket. "Blimey, this rocket makes Pads want to chase it forever. I think I'll have to ask James to hide it when he's around. I can hardly stop looking."

Remus huffed a laugh, glancing to the pair still arguing on the other loveseat across from them. He couldn't help his sarcastic remark with the two stuck in their intense argument. "Yeah, I wonder if Lucy's got a control for it, maybe we could get you to chase it with the collar I got you on."

"Fuck off."

* * *

It kind of bothered her that James hadn't said anything about the kiss. Surely, a few days would be enough time to come up with an excuse—or even an explanation, right? Not that Lucy was any better, since her own secret would never see the light of day. Still, the thoughts plagued her as they held hands in the crowded courtyard. But how ever she felt about their secrets, Lucy liked the feeling of physical contact. Hell, she still liked James! But now, she felt as though perhaps she would enjoy holding hands more with Remus.

Would his hands be soft? Warm? Cold? Calloused? Would they fit perfectly into her own? A small dainty hand matched with a long-fingered one? James's hands were long and spindly, warm and dry; perhaps Remus's were cool and dry, or maybe they were warm and dry, like James's? God, she was a horrible girlfriend.

James nudged her, almost as if he could read her mind, that she was thinking of another guy right in front of him, but he offered a friendly grin and squeezed her hand in excitement instead. How did she even deserve him?!

"Are you excited?" he asked loudly, his voice tinny with the cool air and the clamoring of the other students that'd stayed for winter break making it hard to hear. "I heard Dumbledore did something different this year!"

Rolling her eyes, Lucy offered a smile back at him.

"That's what they say every year, James!" Or so she heard.

"Maybe it'll be different!" he protested, her remark unable to put a damper on his mood. Even when the grass they'd set their blanket on had proved to be tinged with icicles James had laughed and said it was meant to be _their_ spot because Lucy was a wet blanket when she was cold. She hadn't been as amused.

"Yeah, maybe…" Lucy severely doubted that it was different, especially when most people spread that rumor to trick the Firsties. Most people being James and Sirius.

"Hey, lovebirds, the show's starting!" called Sirius from the blanket next to them, where the rest of the Marauders sat. Peter and Remus (who looked as if the wind was rattling his bones) were already looking up at the brilliant numbers that lit up the sky.

She'd always thought it was funny how wizards thought they were the first to do things like that, their own strange way of commemorating New Year's Eve like they did in the States. In New York, five hours behind, they'd be prepping the countdown for the ball drop, a tradition since 1907. The Hogwarts show was only as of the 70's it seemed, with First Year being the beginning of such progressive ideas. Perhaps Dumbledore had influenced many over the need for such integration; World War II had blatantly displayed a need for the recognition that Muggles were just as capable as Wizards, like it or not. Blinking her way back into reality, James already was grinning with excitement.

"I can't wait for 1977. In fact, I'll see you next year, Lucy! My New Year's resolution is to keep the glass half full. Of Firewhiskey." Oh God, James was already starting with the _puns._

"You idiot, why can't you be normal like everyone else?" laughed Lucy, before his own stupid jokes began to worm their way into her sentences as well. "Why, it only took a whole year for you to think of that, James!"

"Not you too!" groaned Remus from the other blanket, a grin on his face even with the lame jokes.

"Shut up, I think we're going to miss the countdown!" Sirius exclaimed over the roar of the students, already preparing for their ecstatic frenzy into 1977.

Maybe Hogwarts would change! Maybe she'd be able to finally go to the Moon! Maybe she'd even…still be dating James? It was hard to think of anything that could split them if even Lily Evans couldn't—no, they would make it through. No matter what! Lucy made the resolution as James clenched their fists in excitement.

" **5, 4, 3, 2, 1!** " _BOOM. BOOM. BOOM._ The hill they sat upon trembled with the force of the fireworks, the excitement of the students trembling with a power only joy could create, of a new hope for the incoming year. Pulling her arm towards him, James captured her lips in a triumphant grin. Through the fireworks, through the cheers, and through the rapid beating of her heart, Lucy felt…a shaky confidence flow through her. It'd be okay. It had to be.

"Happy New Year, Luce," James breathed out, the curls of warmth fanning over her face in the cold.

"Happy New Year, James," Lucy muttered back, her head already tilting towards their friends that awaited their return to the land of the single and lonely. It was hard meeting Remus's eyes despite the joy surrounding them. But then the dynamic shifted, and the groove of a new year hit them all equally. One new year to forget about Remus, to focus on James, and to take the trip to the Moon. It couldn't be _that_ hard.

"Wow, it only took you a year to end that kiss!"

"Seems not even a year's enough for you to grow a brain, Pads!"

* * *

 **JANUARY 1** **1977**

 _3 days until the Full Moon_

* * *

Gwendolyn Wendell née Ollivander wasn't stupid. She wasn't unaware of the thoughts that filled a teenager's mind or the easy corruption of their peers—so her own daughter thinking she could pull the wool over their shared eyes made it all the more infuriating. But if Gwen were being honest, it was _exciting_ having something to stress about as Lucy's Mum.

The brat hardly ever had anyone to mention except the two Ravenclaws she ate lunch with—or used to, according to her latest letter. The newest additions included quite a few boys—of which she'd heard preposterous rumors about throughout her work in the Ministry. The Department of Mysteries was privy to nearly all knowledge of Wizardkind—so even while her specialization was in wandlore, the personal lives of the Pureblood families was all the rage for gossips.

Her new friends were James Potter (the one who apparently was _more than a friend)_ , Remus Lupin (son of a Lyall Lupin from the Department of Magical Creatures), Sirius Black (anyone who wasn't living under a rock knew about that boy), and Peter Pettigrew (the only one without a strong influence in the Ministry that she'd heard of).

But now Lucy had gone and made _**two**_ boys interested in her, if what she read in her latest letter was correct. How could she be so oblivious? That James Potter was one who'd already gotten off to a good start—his mum was quite the woman, and despite his previous obsessions (according to Lucy, the other girl had been out for blood by the time they'd become a couple), he seemed like a good boy. The other, Remus Lupin, was a wildcard. She knew nothing except for the fact that there was a Lupin in the Department of Magical Creatures, and that she wasn't about to go ask him about his son's personal life.

It was a _little_ invasive, wasn't it?

Gwen knew _she_ hadn't liked it when Dad had gone and interrogated Charlie before their first date—so she was certain Lucy wouldn't appreciate her doing the same. But now she was interested. And an interested mother made for some investigations. Especially a Mum who had a daughter that was prone to…strange things.

The door to the cabin blew open with a furious gale of wind, forcing her out of her thoughts and the freezing bitterness of the snow nipping at her skin despite being so close to the fireplace. Garrick entered, rapidly shutting the door and setting the leather bag of wand woods delicately down before the samples could get too restless.

"What did Lucy send you this time?" he asked, wiping his snow-covered boots on the entrance mat. A tiny grin appeared on his face, probably thinking of when it'd be Gabe's turn at Hogwarts back at home.

"Now there's _two_ boyfriends!" exclaimed Gwendolyn, huffing as she set down the parchment. Seriously, did Lucy not think of _her_ when she did things like this?

"My Lucy? Having _two_ boyfriends? That doesn't sound like her," grumbled Garrick, unraveling his scarf petulantly. "Are you sure that's not addressed to another person?"

"Believe me, I checked twice."

Humming, Garrick strolled over towards the desk she sat at, swiping the paper with a grace only a wandmaker could have.

"Hey Mom… mmmmhmmm….mhmmm…." he chuckled, turning it over to check if Lucy'd written more on the other side. "Gwenny, this just sounds like typical teenager stuff. She got the boyfriend trouble, she got the new friends—though, I'd thought we'd get that way before she turned 16—she got the drama…why are you so worked up?"

Worked up? She was _not_ worked up. If anything, she was perfectly calm. Cool and collected, especially when her _daughter had two boys vying for her attention!_ Lucy was a heartbreaker! Lord knew Gwen hadn't dealt with such calamities when she'd been in Hogwarts. She had only met Charlie on a rare passing—and the rest had been history!

"I'm _not worked up, Garrick._ I'm just a little…worried. You know how Lucy prefers doing things her own way—what if one day, they can't keep up with her…or if she has to pick?" Gwen couldn't imagine choosing between _two_ —Lucy would have to shut down one of them before it got out of hand. But how could she send that in a letter if her oblivious daughter didn't even know herself!

"Then let her pick, Gwenny. She can figure it out—Lucy's a big girl," Garrick argued gruffly, his favoritism easily falling in Lucy's favor. "It's not like those boys are Death Eaters or anything…"

"I'm not saying they're about to murder her in her sleep, it's just that—just—" How did she phrase it without seeming…overprotective? "—I don't want her to stress about what she can't control. It's not her fault the Lupin boy kissed her after she got the Potter one as a boyfriend. It's just…unlucky he didn't tell her before."

"God, if I ever thought you'd be so invested in some teenage soap opera, I'd be a frog by now," muttered Garrick, pulling off all his winter attire before the cabin became swelteringly hot for him. "I get you want to protect her Gwen, but sometimes mothers aren't supposed to interfere with their kid's choices. This is one of those times."

When did he get so wise? Gwen could remember a time where he'd been a mischievous boy, one who'd snuck Doxies into her closet, so she could scream in the morning before the train left on September 1st. One who'd defended her marrying a Muggle. One who'd sobered up just as she had after Charlie was murdered.

"If you're sure, Garrick, I'll stay out of it," Gwen finally conceded, slumping back into the wooden chair. "But if something happens, I'm hunting both of them down."

"I can't blame you for that, darling."

* * *

 **JANUARY 2 1977**

 _2 days before the Full Moon_

* * *

Lucy was starting to feel much more comfortable with the Marauders than she could've imagined. Even Peter, who she'd assumed didn't like her much, had warmed up to her. It was nice to talk to people in her Year, who could relate to all the nonsense the professors gave them. She could even say it was _refreshing_.

There was little to argue about, little to think about—ideas bounced back and forth or got shot down in a humorous manner—especially when Sirius thought of them.

"I'm telling you, it could work!" he defended, not for the first time since James had told him it was nigh impossible.

"It would work, and then we would die. I don't think that's a win-win situation, Pads," huffed James, even while she could see his brain considering the consequences. "What do you think, Lucy?"

"I think you're both idiots, and the thought of running in my undies to the Lake and back to the castle just to prove a point means Gryffindors are stupidly bold." Lucy turned the page from the book she was reading. As it turned out, the Romans weren't the first to conceptualize the idea of a wand conduit! Neat.

"See, she said it was bold!"

"Yeah, _stupidly_ bold—that doesn't make us look cool!"

Grumbling, Sirius managed to cram himself between herself and James. Lucy tried to ignore him, really, but then his stupid black hair started touching the side of her face, and that was the breaking point.

"Did you need something, Sirius?" she hummed loftily, trying hard not to bite his head off, especially with his proximity.

"I'm bored!" he whined, turning his attention to James, who'd also been enjoying his book on Quidditch. "Why are you both reading? Lucy, please—we can't have more than two—it's you and Remus already, don't make it James too!"

"Excuse me?" Affronted, Lucy closed her book with a snap. "Well go do something fun!"

"Here we go…"

"Like what?"

"Didn't you want us all to jump in the Lake? Have at it! We'll be waiting back at the castle for you to show up!"

"Wow, did you just tell me to go die?" Sirius gasped, holding a hand in front of his mouth like she was the one who'd wanted _all of them_ to do it with him.

"I never said you'd die," she said cheekily, nudging James. "James did."

"Nonononono, that wasn't me—" James tossed his book to the side, already waving his hands out in defense. "I just said we _could_ die."

"That's nearly as bad!"

Peter, bless his heart, finally spoke up.

"Why don't we just do it, but take our cloaks and sweaters? Then we can say we skinny dipped in the lake. Sort of."

Oh God, what had she done? She never agreed to jump in any _freezing cold_ water or get naked in front of everyone! Especially not wearing the most embarrassing underwear…

"You're brilliant Wormy—you see, even Pete's on board!" Sirius jumped up and down like an energized puppy, regardless of the mortal peril they were soon to face.

"Yeah, I'm not jumping in an iced over lake. You're nuts." Lucy moved towards Remus, who'd been eerily silent throughout their discussion. He'd definitely be reasonable. He'd stop her from being ridiculed in the godforsaken underwear Pandora had thought would be funny. Of course, she'd worn it today to show Pandy that she _did_ care about her gifts, however unused they'd remain afterwards. He was her final option—do or die! "I don't think Remus wants to either, isn't that right?"

"I'm not agreeing to anything…" Remus croaked out, before a devilish smirk crossed his features. "But I'm not saying no to anything either…"

* * *

Lucy might've just slapped Remus with the glare she'd given him, but it was totally worth it. The cold air was _nothing_ to the furnace burning inside him while they were in the castle. Some snow would be nice to his feverish skin, and the only thing keeping him from going out himself would be how odd he'd look rolling in the snow.

"Haha! You think you can make Moony side with you? Think again!" harrumphed Sirius, pulling everyone to their, admittedly, disgruntled feet. "Now let's go, we're burning daylight."

"It's nearly ten pm!" protested Lucy, wrapping her arms around herself. "And I get cold easily…"

* * *

"Well, you know how to cast a Warming Charm, don't you?" Peter reasoned, already slipping on his winter cloak. She was _not_ looking forward to seeing him in his undies. The mere mental thought of it made her stomach turn. And James? Remus?! She'd spontaneously combust!

But at least it would fix the problem of being cold.

"Okay, fine, fine." Realizing she'd been overruled, she too began shrugging on her many layers, despite the total ridiculousness of their actions. James would just make them all look away, male pride and all. "If McGonagall catches us, y'all are the ones who are getting in trouble. I'm Disillusioning as soon as she starts yelling."

"We can live with that," they hummed in unison, almost like they'd mastered the skill of accepting consequences. What a bunch of troublemakers! "It's nothing we haven't heard before."

"What can she threaten us with anyways? The last thing she threw at me was a letter to my Mum—I'd say she'd be sad I _didn't_ die skinny dipping in the Black Lake!" laughed Sirius, throwing an arm around the lot of them.

"We're gonna regret this in the morning…" groaned Lucy, already thinking of the bitter chill outside. Florida was warm. Florida was sunny. Florida was also conveniently surrounded by the warm Gulf of Mexico _and_ the Atlantic Ocean, which made it nigh impossible for cold temperatures to breeze in. The specific heat of water had a lot to do with it, but that was just Lucy's brain spouting out random facts that _decidedly would_ _ **not**_ save her from joining them.

Scotland wasn't warm. Scotland wasn't sunny (at least, not in the winter storms). It was cold _and_ cloudy, the quintessential parts to make up the miserable winter, when the snow wasn't enough to make her forget about how frozen she was. And there Lucy was, _daring_ the frigid air to nip at her skin like she was _covered_ in fur!

"If you're done planning our deaths, we've got something to show you—" James tugged her towards the portrait hole, holding something shimmery and fluid to the eye. Silk cloaks? They were officially insane! As soon as they were out of eyeshot from the Fat Lady, James threw the silk cloak over all their heads, Remus, the tallest, already folding like a lawn table to accommodate their heights.

"It's cool and all that y'all have a silk tablecloth to cover us while we walk, but it isn't going to stop anyone from seeing us…" Lucy huffed petulantly, not even needing to crouch like the rest of them were.

"Silk tablecloth?" James spluttered, before Remus's low voice crept from above her.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak. I've never seen anything like it," he explained, helping hold the shimmering material around them.

"Yeah, I don't think _anyone's_ seen anything like it, seeming as it makes us _invisible_ , you dolt," muttered Sirius, unable to refrain from adding his snarky commentary. The canopy shifted slightly as Remus swiped at Sirius, the resounding sounds a thud and a hiss of pain.

"I appreciated that, Remus," laughed Lucy, her laugh breathlessly rushing out before anyone heard them. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"We're almost out of the castle, I can see the lanterns in the courtyard," breathed James, all their breaths coming out in foggy curls.

"You're telling me, I can _feel_ how close we are to the outside with this horrible chill. Who's stupid idea was this again?" Lucy complained, holding her arms closer to herself.

"Mine!" cheered Sirius, recognizing that no one would hear them out in the yard.

"Just stand close to Remus, that boy's almost as good as the fireplace in the Common Room," James offered, however odd it was that he knew that Remus was warm.

* * *

Oh my God, _just stand close to Remus_ , **fine** idea from his close friend. Buddy, he was having a hard-enough time trying _**not**_ to stand anywhere _**near**_ Lucy! Remus could see all of them in the darkness, his vision nearing perfection this close to the full moon, with his sense of smell already superseding what a bloodhound could only dream of. He _smelled_ her before she got closer, since apparently warmth was more important than whatever promise she'd made herself the day before.

His evidence of the deed? Her shoulders had gone slack with relief, and Lucy had clearly shown that there was _nothing_ left to worry about by staying with James. So, he let her practically stand in front of him, the height difference probably the only thing saving him (and her if he were honest) from curling into her tiny form like an overgrown cat. She was _flowers_. She was _coffee._ She was _perfection._ She was everything that shouldn't have gone well together but became _intoxicating_ to every fiber of his being just by proximity.

Stop. Brain. Stop. Body. Stop.

"Thanks, Remus," she breathed, all while he could practically hear her heart in her neck, waiting for him to all but _touch her_.

Do NOT think of her that way.

"No problem," he grunted, suddenly thinking about how in God's name he was going to try not to leer at her when she took off her clothes. Remus prayed that James would make them turn around. If only to preserve his sanity. His brain started up again, worry dulling his senses for a moment. "Wait, I've just realized—if Filch comes, he's going to see our footsteps."

"Got it covered," said Sirius, not caring about the need to remain silent once they'd set foot out of the castle. "Been spelling it smooth since Fifth Year."

"What were you doing in Fifth Year that made you learn how to do it?" asked Lucy, her voice sounding adorably confused.

Wait. No. Adorably? The _moon_. It was doing things to his brain—and not in a good way—Remus still trusted his wits (thankfully, but however unfoundedly) to save him, however detrimental they were to his senses. They focused hard on something (someone) he could _**not**_ have.

"Er, think I was going to snog some bird by the Lake. Real cute date for her and all that, but anyways, imagine my horror when McGonagall herself finds me with my tongue down the bird's throat at midnight in the middle of December. Never again." Sirius shuddered, and not from the cold. "She'd seen the tracks from her office window and come after us immediately."

Remus remembered that quite clearly. Sirius had gone back to the Tower like someone'd attacked him in the night, like he'd only _just_ made it to escape. McGonagall gave him detention through the Christmas Break, the only time he'd not gone was Christmas Day itself, and then continuing to New Years. It was also around the time Marlene McKinnon had ended things with him, as she wasn't the bird Sirius had gone to meet at the Lake either.

"I can't imagine that," Lucy muttered, disgust and fear grating his ears. "At least James knows I hate the snow."

"He knows but we're all out here about to jump in a lake," countered Remus, her proclamation of excursions with James _hell_ to think about.

"Yeah, what's with that…" James trailed off, realizing he had no argument to respond with. "Well, you could've stayed in the castle…"

"If that was an option, why didn't you voice it before I came out here with you four boys, in the middle of the night?"

"Cos then you wouldn't have come!"

Remus sighed, eyeing how far the banks of the lake were from their distance.

"Guys, we're right on the edge of the lake—who's going first?" he asked, a redundant question, really, since everyone but Lucy knew he was volunteering.

"Real funny Moony," huffed James, still recovering from the bitter mood he'd put Lucy in, which really put a damper on things if he were being honest. "And Lucy, you don't have to join us."

"Well now that makes this awkward, James, so I _have_ to jump in the freezing cold lake." Her pride wouldn't stand for it—and everyone knew why. James really had to work on his phrasing. "I won't be the only one _not_ participating, only chickens don't follow through with things."

"But we won't think you're a chicken!" James protested, throwing his cloak to the ground. "It'll only be us that know you didn't jump…"

"And that's exactly why I have to!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!" And she ripped off her sweater (the one he'd given her), shirt and all with it.

 _ **Oh…my….God**_ …he tried really hard not to stare. Really, _really, hard_. But it was really, really, _really_ hard not to look at the lacy (why did they make it so _sheer?!)_ white bra that practically glowed in the dark. Was his mouth open? No…thankfully—and then the pants came off—and then Remus couldn't think of anything but the _**sexy**_ _lingerie_ that _Lucy was wearing_ —and his vision— _his vision was fucking perfect._ Remus could see _everything_.

A white puff of air came out of her mouth as she shoved James out of her way. All of them blankly stared at her, unable to believe it really was _Lucy_ they were seeing in her underwear, and then she ran off the pier. Remus felt air enter his lungs again.

"HOLY FUCK, IT'S C-C-COLD!" she gasped, coming up immediately after. "HOW L-L-LONG C-CAN WE B-BE IN THE L-LAKE?"

 **Get-in** -get-in-get-in- **with** -pretty-little- **Lucy** -make-her- _ **warm**_ —

Remus tossed all his clothes off, and the scars or anything he'd ever thought was embarrassing or shameful became meaningless. The only thing in his mind was to join Lucy in the ice cold water simply because _she was in it_.

Everyone followed her lead, each of them piling their winter attire by the willow tree to stop it from getting wet, their resounding splashes mottled with "FUCK"s and "WOOOOAHHH"s as they tried to adjust to the freezing water.

He didn't feel cold when he'd jumped in the lake. The water felt amazing, like a cool swimming pool in the middle of a hot summer, and he had half a mind to lap around while everyone practically had their organs shutting down as they floated. Lucy herself was halfway out of the lake the second she'd jumped in, but Remus wanted to stay in the _cold_ water when she did get out so he wouldn't catch sight of her any more than he already had. Did he mention how grateful he was that it was freezing out?

"I'm done, I'm done, I'm d-d-done…" sang James, shuffling closer to the shore of the lake, where Lucy had already wrapped herself up in what looked like her original clothing, plus what looked like four hasty Warming Charms within her vicinity. Sirius followed James to the tee, with Peter (did he even know how to swim?) haphazardly trying to keep up with how fast they were moving through the water.

Remus closed his eyes for a second, letting the rush of water clear his mind before he got out, where a divine angel that looked exactly like Lucy (but in _lingerie_ ) graced around. There wasn't anything wrong with being able to see in the dark, was there? Apologizing to James felt like the proper decision to the rational side of his brain, but Remus could hardly be sorry for _using his eyes._

It was just one of the _perks_ of being a werewolf.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Not going to lie, I kind of thought fall semester would let me keep up with this more. Turns out there's more to college than the two classes I took in summer, huh? Didn't think I'd get so close to the actual time in the fic, lol. I've been writing this on and off because I also felt like I didn't**_ **know** _ **what to write, but I really enjoy the way this chapter turned out. It serves as a plot turn, which lets me progress more from where I left off, AND it's 7.2k words. Fanfiction is way more fun to write than lab reports, lemme tell ya.**_

 _ **Anyways, R/R like always, and I'll see y'all next chapter, which I hope won't be too far away.**_

 _ **Happy Thanksgiving! Thank you for reviewing/following/favoriting. It really makes me happy to know people like what I write, especially in such a stressful time of my life where I don't know if anything I do is right.**_

 _ **Ps. I went back and read through my own fic (don't know if that's normal, and if not, I DIDN'T) and I was like, damn, wish there was more—but I'm the one that knows how I want it to go, so that kinda pushed me to finish this chapter up LOL.**_


End file.
